Story Touch-starved (Poem)

[steel-and-glass]

Feels like I'm drowing in quicksand
Desperate to feel the touch of a hand
Crawling through a wasteland, unable to stand
As my mind interprets requests as demands

I hold them
My lovers
My friends
But who will hold me when my fortitude ends?
I am the rock on which they depend
I am their shield, made to defend
But I have no energy left to expend

My armor is shattered
My frail heart is battered
And I can't help feeling that none of this mattered
Still I drape myself over them
A shroud that is tattered

I want someone to touch me gently
To hold me close, to say they love me
And I know that right now, this cannot be
I cannot be weak where they can see

If I wanted, I could request tenderness
But therein is the troublesomeness
I cannot take off my mask, I confess
I cannot show them how much I need rest

I won't shoulder them with my desperation
I'd rather burn in my own conflagration
Than ever fall below expectation

I live to serve, and that is all
And I will do so until I fall
I will heed their every call
I will never show them when I feel small

I am their strength
I am their champion
I am their pillar
I am their weapon

I am not delicate
I am not frail
I do not need sweetness
By gods, I won't fail

I will not break
I will not kneel
I will not hesitate
I will not feel

I am Steel.