Is this lonesomeness, or is this the need for companion?
It taunts my nights, deprives me of serendipity at daytime.
I’m trying to find something, reach out to someone. I want that warmth, but not the connection. I want that pleasure, but not the desire. I want that touch, but not the electricity.
Ashamed are my attributes, they don’t measure up.
Ashamed are my desires, they aren’t passionate.
I don’t need to feel, I just need to be.
Let it be.
