Human touch because I can’t breath.

Each inhale is like a stab, or a wound from an arrow.


How could it feel so solid and strong to be alone

Yet so vulnerable and meager.


Feel that hunger inside that shakes your core

Like the way Samson pushed those pillars

and they all tumbled down

You shakily cry muted tears.


How is it that warmth comes with touch

physically, emotionally, spiritually

irrespective of the nature of it,

That need is like each blood cell pumped away from the atrium and ventricle.


So most nights it’s not a want

Because if this was a want, it is not even on my list

My selfishness and pride come above that.


It’s a need, something you refuse to acknowledge

But it bangs on your doors like the beats of a song lacking melody

And forceful it hurts like waterfalls.





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