I hate that I'm so human
That I crave the closeness
We all are told, scientifically,
We need.
Babies will die without enough touch
Or interaction.
I sometimes wonder if I'm worse
Than others.
I need you
In ways I cant explain.
My desperation like a slowly emanating smoke bomb.
Invisible
But it still is clouding the room.
Maybe if I spoke up just once
We wouldn't be sitting here
Silently suffocating.
You choking on my passive subtleties,
And I'm gagging on my deeply craved, hidden,
Inner intamacies.
Why cant I just tell people I need them sometimes?