Have no expectations just let me be me.

The memories of your touch seizes my loneliness and strangles it with despair.

’Tis a dangerous game, dancing this close together, dressed only in our souls.

I want to have a love affair with you. I want to be unstable with you and not scare you into thinking I won’t be strong when it’s needed. I want to weave your scent into my work and still own it entirely.

I need someone who can consume me but not destroy who are am and someone I can consume but not destroy.

“Have you ever thought about me…about us — ” “ — you’d break me…” he protested as she touched her velvet to his, inhaling the crumbs of his soul through her parted lips.

“Is everything ok?” No! Nothing is ok. I’m lonely and scared… I need to be touched and touch you! I feel incomplete, small and insignificant… unloved and unlovable. Nothing. Is. Ok. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “It’s gonna storm later. Make sure the windows are down.” “Ok.”

I mistook your invite as a friendship you could not offer. You were also not on stable footing. All you could offer was an embrace as we fell, the ground swallowing us both.

I have no companionship daily, except the dogs, which I am convinced have been forced upon me to keep me from leaving. This latest run of no intimacy has persisted now more than eight years, with no end in sight. …