It is a terrible thing, this urge.
This hunger that rears its ugly head.
A simple smile or kind word,
A gentle hand, a sweet glance
And I am instantly lost.
I am unbuttoning a blouse
And pressing hands against me.
Lips snarling desperately,
Belly aching to be full of kindness,
Of sweetness and praise.
Of more than this echoing empty.
It sickens me most times.
The way I bare my neck
And roll over.
Another ***** in heat;
Open, wet and wanting,
All just for a little something.
I know my body is worth more
Than their passing kindness.
But it has been so starved
That even the tiniest morsel means too much.
It doesn't know when we will eat again.
When next will someone hold me?
When next will someone touch me?
When next will someone kiss me
Like I mean something?
I don't know when I will eat again.
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 8:07 PM UTC
It is a terrible thing, this urge.
This hunger that rears its ugly head.
A simple smile or kind word,
A gentle hand, a sweet glance
And I am instantly lost.
I am unbuttoning a blouse
And pressing hands against me.
Lips snarling desperately,
Belly aching to be full of kindness,
Of sweetness and praise.
Of more than this echoing empty.
It sickens me most times.
The way I bare my neck
And roll over.
Another ***** in heat;
Open, wet and wanting,
All just for a little something.
I know my body is worth more
Than their passing kindness.
But it has been so starved
That even the tiniest morsel means too much.
It doesn't know when we will eat again.
When next will someone hold me?
When next will someone touch me?
When next will someone kiss me
Like I mean something?
I don't know when I will eat again.