January 25th, Year 21

It doesn’t feel so long ago, that I married all that touched me. There was wind, so I became wind. The sun shone brightly, so I became a ray of white-hot intensity. There was rain, so I became a purifying element.

I have a head that aches with problems of the imagined variety.

There is nothing to run away from, but the need exists within of me. Narrow hallways trap me in. I feel the heat of the outside world coming inside, suffocating every word, so that it never has an opportunity to become an inspired speech. I am a mute, standing there, unable to figure out what the hell to look at. Something in here, must have meaning. The message is somewhere, in between the mess created by panic. In between human needs, twisting a body rising to be touched. I seek a man. One that will satisfy, for a moment longer than the last. My body starves, as my mind starves. Both must be fed, at once, by one. Not two. I can’t be divided, and forced to be grateful for what little men have to give me.

January 25th, Year 21

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