It’s one of those nights, where the day has worn on me long and thin, where my eyes burn but I push them to entertain me anyway.
It is one of those nights where I am needy and greedy and visceral with it to no one in particular. It is one of those dangerous nights when all my pieces don’t want to add up yet I refuse to run on a deficit.
One of those nights where nothing is wrong but nothing is right.
I miss kissing, holding and being held. Wanted, desired.
My bed is too cold and I am tired of warming it on my own.
These smoke and shadow memories make me sad. I want a handful of “right” for a change.
Hug the one you’re with… for me.