My Virginity Is A Burden Iv Missax May 2026

I have worn this word— virgin —like a second skin. Some days it feels like armor. Most days, it feels like a splinter.

I want to lay it down. Not dramatically. Not in a poem. Just quietly, on some Tuesday, with someone who doesn't want to take it but simply be there when it falls away like a cloak I never needed. my virginity is a burden iv missax

Because the truth is sharper: it's not the absence that burdens me. It's the presence. The constant awareness. The way I measure every glance, every almost-touch, every moment I pull back when I wanted to lean in. Not out of virtue. Out of fear. Out of the strange shame of having saved something no one has ever tried to take. I have worn this word— virgin —like a second skin

They call it a gift, this thing I carry. A ribbon of waiting. A lock without a key yet turned. I want to lay it down