I wish I could stop shaking.

And as I sit here, curled around myself,
holding myself together,
I wish someone was here.
Anyone.

Well, maybe not just anyone.
There is a certain someone that tends to
creep into my thoughts at this hour of the night.
But not in a voyeuristic way.

I just want him to hold me.
Just to hold me,
to sit with me.
To feel the pressure of another,
holding me,
wanting me,
valuing my fragile humanity,
keeping me warm,
holding me together.

To stop the frantic nature of my pounding pulse,
that I feel though out my entire body.
Not to make it stop.
I do not want to die this young.
Just to make it slow,
so even the smallest motions,
do not feel as though
I am getting ready to run a marathon.

One time you did hold me,
and I hadn't been held in such a long time.
I was almost desperate, so desperate,
for the human touch,
and you obliged.

I am not ashamed to admit
that just like everyone else in this world,
just like any other human.
That I have wants.
That I have needs.
And right now,
holding myself together,
under the weight of the pressures of my own mind
and the world around me.
If I had a wish
that could be granted right now,
I would wish that you would be here.
With me.

Yes.
Being held,
just for a while,
would indeed,
be nice.

lurking in the dark,
i sit and watch him from my secret hole by his side,
even though he claims to be a piece of trash that deserves
the look of a blind eye.
i cannot help the way the shape of his face
causes the fire in the pit of my stomach to roar,
or how his tragic words
slip and slide into the depths of my mind,
losing themselves to the maze so that they may never leave.
he has found his place in the world
among the things i hold close to my heart,
and he may not realize
what he has done,
but he will always find his way to me now.