Sex.
It felt like it had been a year, at least.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat.
It was hard to be present in everyday conversations,
I tried to feign interest, but it just wasn’t as fulfilling.
I tried to ask (beg) for it a few times,
Rejection hurts – to say the least. Shame.
I was tired of watching videos
And to think of all the wasted batteries.
Every ad I read, program I watched, or song I listened to -
Reminded me of it. The feeling. The thrill. Ugh, I needed it bad.
I longed for it. In any form. Any body.
Touch. Messy. Wet. Rough. Hard. Fast. Deep.
Would I ever feel it again?
Satisfied?
Wanted?
Alive?
Full?
In reality it had probably only been a week, two tops.
I longed for it though. Craved it. I drunk texted.
Called people I knew I shouldn’t.
Does the hunger make me a bad person?
I am so frusturated,
Wet and unsatisfied,
Thirsty and unquenched,
Longing for the explosion.