living on the inside roaring like a lion

White little dots in a blanket of nothing
I gaze at your eternity of beauty and wonder,
is their someone looking back at me,
this tiny dot in a sky of possibility & beauty.

he made me feel warm and liked but not hot, not loved
he was light sparks and a buzz in my stomach but in front of everyone
I was in a shell and we were a fuzzy, faded headache
soft and stupid and that strange smell, I still have his t shirt
and his lips were so soft that I spent the next week
pressing mine to each other because I could hardly believe
that love was so close, so familiar, that it tasted so much
like a sensation that I already knew, like something that I already had felt
many times before.

Truth be told, I don't mind
not at all,
I'd rather sink in perfect peace
than count the stories as I fall

My obsession over being wanted came from never feeling wanted.