Not Me

Don't touch me.
Memory of some petrified day.
This armor you see,
still needs work.
Still soft to certain forces.

Don't hang your presence here.
Not where I can see it.
Not in these hollowed out halls.

Don't reach out
and make this backwards step
across all I have tried to heal from.

Don't haunt this home,
newly clean of your ghosts.
Your obstinate spirit.

Don't touch me.
It is not me.
It is not me you reach for.
Not the me your hands will know.
Not me.