My dearest,
I still have a vague memory of what it's like to cuddle up to someone, to feel safe and comfortable, to want nothing more than to be kissed,
to melt in that kiss,
with every touch cravings rise... wanting more, more touch, more feeling, skin on skin, heartbeats echoing.
A pale memory of words of appreciation.
What a gift! what a blessing ,it is to be so close to me.
The memories fade more and more. Time makes them vanish. Time erases them to shadows of illusions.
Loneliness settles like a centimeter-thick layer of ice over skin and soul. Not even hope remains, only the unfullfilled desire to feel all of that pleasant comfort of love and skinship again.
A left over wish to at least believe that one is loved so deeply, that one feels whole and complete in the others reflection of connection and love.
The skin gets colder, breath becomes slower,
Heart rate gets lower and the question remains, "was there ever anything like that? Was it true? Or is it just a fantasy of how things should be, but never were and never will be?
Loneliness embraces with cold arms and colder fingers, the scream becomes a whisper, my dearest, do I still love you? Does it matter? Would you love me? Never let me doubt? Because loneliness lets you doubt everything.
Sleep well and don't worry,
I'll still hide