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.