Is this ravenous ache for sex just an empty text box replacing an essay?
I am reaching out for intimacy,
But when getting fucked from behind with the lights off and leftover bruises on my hips gets placed into my palms,
I say thank you,
And take that as a cheap replacement for my needs.
At least the bruises will take some time to fade,
And I can press into them when I'm craving feeling something,
Anything to make sure I'm no longer numb.
YOU ARE READING
Does the Rain Ever Stop?: Poems and Musings
PoetryHello Reader, This is my collection of poems and thoughts that I have compiled over the last few years. I have been writing for many years and my number one hope is that someone reads my poems and feels seen. Says "oh that's me". We all live in this...
