My heart sought true and loving compassion,
my mind ached longingly to be understood,
my eternal search for respect is unending,
and my desire to be loved is insatiable.
My body yearns for the electric contact
of your masterful fingers, but I am alone
I need time to be myself, alone
with my thoughts. Your compassion
compels me, but I am left without contact.
I tell you my story. You said you understood -
that you didn't mind, your drive was insatiable
and our lovemaking sessions would be unending.
But we fought. The yelling, the screaming was unending,
You lied to me. I would have been better off alone.
Your appetite for destruction is insatiable;
You show little to no compassion,
but question why you are never understood
I tried to soothe you, but my contact
repulsed you, made your cringe. Your contact
is cold and hateful. Your spite unending
and hot as the sun. I understood
your perspective. You didn't want to be alone,
you didn't think you deserved compassion
and your desire to be loved was insatiable.
Our desire for each other is insatiable,
but neither of us can handle the contact
of the other. The most compassion-
ate outcome is to be separate. An unending
sentence of solitude. Forever alone
in a world that is only barely understood
by two people. And only two. If the world understood
how our insanity was normal, our insatiable
desires for each other require us to be alone
separate from each other, separated from contact
with the world, filled with an unending
desire and need for true compassion,
to be understood, to share compassion
and an insatiable desire for unending
solitude. Alone in the world, devoid of contact.
