Compulsive Lover

Insatiably I search for that feeling
Compulsively cleaving to cloying closeness, craving comfort
In the form of hidden touches 
And muted moans in the backseat
And Dripping with anticipation
of the promise of makeshift pleasure 
I find when I touch your chest
I feel nothing
My stomach, not alight with electricity and flying insects
All the while this numbness building
Spreading like a sickness
As I bring you to your pleasure
That passionate release I yearn for remaining hidden from me
Til feeble from hunger and thirst
I stumble into another pair of arms
Blissfully unaware of burdens those arms 
May be holding
Wondering Why I feel like an empty vessel,
Longing to be filled
Driving my universe towards the notion
Delving into places
Love may be hiding 
Finding it not in the spaces
Everyone said it would be
Just a woman full of quirks, finding my way, sharing my thoughts, poetry, and short stories.

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