Cracking my knuckles,
As my coffee becomes cold.
Sitting among my peers,
A teacher lecturing without speaking
And all I can think of
Is how much I want.
From a book in my hands
To blankets pulled up to my chin,
From a mans hands on my body
To never being touched again,
From being wrapped in someones arms
To feeling protected.
I want it all.
I have enough
But it's never enough.
I'm always wanting more.
I'm called selfish,
And I don't deny it.
I'm constantly wanting
What I'll never have.
When I get what I want
It's a rare occasion.
When I get what I want
It leaves me wanting more.