sexual
Bespeckled I grasp my pillow at night and ONLY think: "My arms are empty."

I feel the cold and welcome it; I don't want warmth.

I feel the emptiness and embrace it; I don't want comfort.

I feel the quiet and dwell on it; I would only push company away.

Lonesomeness, cold, aloofness - they're all I have the ability to be close to anymore.
071113
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