As a fever, it&#39;s burning.&nbsp;&nbsp;
My skin is craving.&nbsp;&nbsp;
My heart is aching,&nbsp;&nbsp;
and my bones are breaking,&nbsp;&nbsp;
from the want&nbsp;&nbsp;
that tears me apart.&nbsp;&nbsp;
For the thing&nbsp;&nbsp;
that needs to be felt.&nbsp;&nbsp;
Needs to be held,&nbsp;&nbsp;
needs to be there.&nbsp;&nbsp;

My soul is aching&nbsp;&nbsp;
to be touched.&nbsp;&nbsp;
To be that cosmic dust&nbsp;&nbsp;
that molds into blood.&nbsp;&nbsp;
My skin is aching&nbsp;&nbsp;
to be touched.&nbsp;&nbsp;

To be that raindrop&nbsp;&nbsp;
that falls on the earth&nbsp;&nbsp;
and becomes one&nbsp;&nbsp;
with the filth.&nbsp;&nbsp;
To be loved&nbsp;&nbsp;
with your filth.&nbsp;&nbsp;
One with your filth.&nbsp;&nbsp;
My soul is aching&nbsp;&nbsp;
to be felt.

2025/05/25