#messy mind

There’s stillness in my soul even when my mind is a mess.

Touched

I don’t want a lot

Until I do…what to do with

My moody to-and-fro self?

When the longing for more

Starts to grow, so does the guilt:

Of being a restless mess,

An incorrigible ingrate,

A wide-eyed whore

So I try to ignore every craving till

I get so thirsty, I drink too much

So hungry, I devour too much

So sleep-deprived, I crash too hard

Falling too far to connect

The dots back to start

Only sensing I was trained

Somewhere between being treated

Like a precious commodity and

Denied any actual affection

Maybe one cannot die of touch

Starvation, yet this feels like

Afterlife

Stimulation