never commit yourself.

it is always a lie,

even if intentions are true.

my promises are slipping through the cracks

again.

here we go.

god I’m tired,

I wish I could say to a honey hued love.

a heart’s a heavy burden

when you’ve no one to share it with.

I just want to be held.

to feel the -

the warmth of another human being,

the heated glow of compassion;

to feel okay, to feel safe,

to feel home.

I need a hug.

why is it easier to mask it in metaphors?

and by it, I suppose, I mean myself.

I’m tired.

a screen’s not the same as soft fingers.

there’s thrill in being wanted but

there’s home in being had.

I miss being had

and I miss having.

I miss the hearthfire in my chest,

the hurt of it and the hope of it.

I’m tired.

and what’s the end?

what am I spending my energy for?

all I am is waiting,

always.