I grow restless, and ache to travel. Really... to leave.
I enjoy knowing no one, building relationships is terrifying and exhausting.
The closer I am to people, the more miserable I feel. I wish I had a lover that wanted to constantly be by my side, but never speak. Never know. Only translate his desire and curiosity and later, his love through physical words of passion and intimacy.
I wish I had a female friend in this overflowing yet desolate city that believed herself to be beautiful without painted faces and illustrated, contrived laughs. That felt her sensuality the way a woman was made to, and rejoiced in the feminine with affection instead of jealousy.
I feel withdrawn and unreachable but there's a safeness to it.
I am beginning to distrust my own blood, and this terrifies me. If not for family, what else do I have? I have shed everything from my other lives, I have nothing left but my pain.
Slowly, I tread through the territory of all who have hurt me in the past.
The cold, unreachables. The ones who translate their love through sex, so much passion. And yet, still elusive to touch.
I am them, they are me. The ones I have loathed in my entirety are the ones that live in inside of me.
I wish I could separate and witness my complexity from another's eyes. I wish I could separate only to be joined again, more unified.
No one could ever love me as passionately as I. When I pull him deeper into me, it is only myself I claw to reach for. I kiss an open mouth with trembling lips and beg for my Maker to witness me through this body. The feminine and the masculine. How they need to be held, tasted, touched.
I know all about the senses, but what about love?
The sad acceptance of something I've tasted in another life, came close to tasting in this life and having it turn to ash in my mouth creates good substance for sex.
Sorrow gives color and flavor to intoxicated sighs, heavy moans, wet eyes and thighs.
I no longer fear physical intimacy. But still the apathy continues..
am I getting better? Am I healing?
Is it a slow process, or am I simply unconsciously repeating same old karmic patterns.
I suppose Time will tell.
Afterall, it was Time that before Birth promised to one day come and rescue me.