Touched by your touch

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Hold me. Hold me. Wrap me in the warmth of your eyes. Where I feed off of the highs that I get from those eyes, that had me engrossed in the lies that you've disguised as your... love.

Listen. Have you ever listened, to the sincerity of the infatuation I have with your smile? The only smile that I ever found worthwhile, which blurred my vision from the profile of phony feelings you had, for... me.

Feel. I want you to feel, the electric ecstasy I feel at your touch. Never too little, nor never to much, only enough to keep me in your clutch. The clutch that is holding me, it's holding me, but not the way I want you holding me.

I tried. I tried to let go, but the image of your body prompts my mind to get foggy. Suddenly the colour red gets cloudy and it's just... grey.

We become grey.

Just grey.

No lust. No love. No connection.

I need your hugs and your kisses, but not as much as I need your emotional affection.

My subjection to your perfection kept me from changing direction and caged the resurrection of my own self love.

The only real love, was not between you and me, it was just within me.

Too painful to get out of your hold, to get you to listen or understand what I feel. Nothing that we had was ever real, except our physical existence. Even when close, we had so much distance.

Sleep in a bed together but we are still not together. I tell myself everyday that it will get better, to never say never, but never... face the terror, of acting to let you go.

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