The Space Between

I flinch at the warmth of a hand brushing close,

a jolt of electric, a feeling I loathe.

In crowded rooms filled with laughter and din,

I crave just the space where the comfort begins.

An empty chair sits beside me, a world apart,

while fingers reach out, and I guard my heart.

Each gesture a caution, each touch a sharp sting,

I pull back, retreating, a bird on the wing.

Please understand, it’s not you or your smile,

it’s the weight of my past that clings like a trial.

So I linger in distance, where shadows can grow,

in the silence between us, where no one must know.