I do not get hugs, I do not cry

I have lived this long in the shadow of care.
I do not get hugs. People don't hug me.
I dont know what a warm embrace is except the one I get from my blanket when I hide in my room and wrap it around me so tight that it becomes a cacoon glued to my skin that'll one day turn me into something better.
I don't want you to feel sorry for me if you yourself refuse to hug me. I don't care the reason but don't feel sorry for me. I am not a fragile doll made of the finest porcelain. I should know. I have been trampled and beaten and bruised by the ones that I love to know I am not fragile. I am not fragile and I am not going to cry. I won't cry because my tears burn my eyes and sting the cuts on my face. I won't cry because it won't change anything. I won't cry because it only gets me in trouble. I just won't cry. I need a safe zone but the only places I have are here and in my head and even my mind is starting to turn against me. I only have my writing. Until I give up on this too. I am in a cacoon of my own emotions that are squeezed against me under my blanket and I don't think I'm ever going to move.