Words That Scream the Soul's Orgasm

Words That Scream the Soul’s Orgasms

I believed my world was whole — with you, who once belonged to me.

I thought I was certain of my certainties,

when in truth I was only living inside your world,

suffocated,

trapped in a borrowed, unreal reality.

I needed so badly to need you.

I thought I knew the corners of my soul by heart —

the gestures that gave me pleasure, the places that gave me shape.

I thought more of you than of myself.

You completed me.

And in your absence, I miss you in such a ridiculous,

simple way

I never thought possible —

not until you were gone.

I feel split,

torn between diverging paths.

I trained my mind to lose itself —

in me,

in you,

in us.

I've lost that spark,

the one they say flutters like butterflies in the stomach.

I cry without reason,

smile without cause —

this is the state of my soul.

I want you so much,

and yet — not at all.

These words ache with longing.

They are body and desire,

shiver,

orgasm.

Daily, you corrode my thoughts.

I lie in bed, inert, without direction or choice.

Someone once said distance would help —

that what the eyes don’t see, the heart won’t feel.

What nonsense.

Polished stupidity.

Who lives untouched by the consequences of what they feel?

I am thirsty.

Hungry for skin.

But I know — deep down — it’s wrong.

You failed.

We failed.

We were a beautiful mistake.

And still,

I never tire of thinking of you.

You haunt my dreams with a familiarity that wounds.

You are my quiet shame.

I don’t breathe you —

I sigh you into silence.

We soared too high,

and burst into wild, formless delirium.

And in secret you’ll remain:

a carnal memory lodged in thought.

I carved your name in my heart.

We’ll be eternal —

but nothing more.