I crave that touch I've never had. I want that scent to linger in the room after you are no longer present. So shall I continue to dream of such nights, full of desire and lust but also love and passion. Shall I cry when my eyes see what my heart wants. More or less, needs. For I can no longer pretend to feel no pain from this emptiness. I am cursed, that is my conclusion. God sees no light in my soul, no hope and no room for love. Sadness is my dearest friend, who comes to me at times of darkness.
I crave to be touched with cold hands. I crave that touch I've never had.