Sex.

It felt like it had been a year, at least.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat.

It was hard to be present in everyday conversations,

I tried to feign interest, but it just wasn’t as fulfilling.

I tried to ask (beg) for it a few times,

Rejection hurts – to say the least. Shame.

I was tired of watching videos

And to think of all the wasted batteries.

Every ad I read, program I watched, or song I listened to -

Reminded me of it. The feeling. The thrill. Ugh, I needed it bad.

I longed for it. In any form. Any body.

Touch. Messy. Wet. Rough. Hard. Fast. Deep.

Would I ever feel it again?

Satisfied?

Wanted?

Alive?

Full?

In reality it had probably only been a week, two tops.

I longed for it though. Craved it. I drunk texted.

Called people I knew I shouldn’t.

Does the hunger make me a bad person?

I am so frusturated,

Wet and unsatisfied,

Thirsty and unquenched,

Longing for the explosion.