Inside His head

by Riquashea

Kenma doesn't like to be touched.

All in good fun, they say.

All the touching, prodding, words, and laughing.

All in good fun, they say.

I don't understand, how is it fun when I say Stop! Why do you laugh when I beg you Please!

I wish you could feel what I feel instead.

The hands leaving trails of disgust and pain, the words and laughter squeezing, scratching away at the walls of my head.

Oh how I wish you were dead.