Cravings

I miss the caress of being touched.

To feel the trail of fingertips down my spine as I am held reverently in the arms of one who cares.

The gentle brush of hair from my face as my cheek is cupped.

I miss being held like I matter.

Like for even just this moment in time we are the only two people in the world.

I miss it the way a drowning man craves just one breath.

I crave it the way a starving man longs for just one spoonful.

I long for it the way a once sighted man dreams of just one more sunset.

But missing, craving, and longing for something will not make it so.

It will not find me cradled as if I were precious in the arms of one who wants me for more than just my body for more than just a night.

Because no one wants me.

I am doomed to forever reach but grasp nothing but air.

Doomed to forever reach but always find myself alone.


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