Human touch.
I crave it.
But can’t have it.
It’s so hard being this alone.
A sound.
A smell.
Can make me want.
An accidental brush against my breast is enough to keep me wanting.
I lay awake at night forcing my legs together,
hoping it’s enough to keep me at bay.
I could take care of myself,
but no one will be there to hold me when it’s over.
My weighted blanket can only do so much.
I may feel weight pressing down on top of me,
but there’s no arms to hold me.
I can’t lay my head on my chest and hear my heartbeat.
I can love myself all I want,
but my ears still aren’t hearing the words,
“I need you.”
“I want you.”
“I love you.”  
I can love myself all I want,
but it never seems to be enough.