Control

Sometimes I run out; out of words, situations and my mind. It creeps you know? This hunger. You could be talking and suddenly like a bullet shot, I don’t see or hear the words any more, I’m numbed. I watch your lips and how they curve into the letter shapes and how the fluidly they move – up and down then around. Then I watch your tongue, see how it swirls around, looking for something. Then the hunger – desire – whatever name this beast likes to be called, has me wanting to divulge in your existence. Like my hands lifting mid-air, mid conversation and you wonder why and I’m dying inside hoping you can see it in my eyes. I want you and I can’t control how I feel and what I want. Then my mind runs out and I am stuck on auto pilot, replaying your moving lips – torturing myself. Hands in the air, reaching out for you.

– K

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