In the Wee Small Hours


Forever watching the ceiling and the wooden orbs turning through the wind of my fan.

Contemplating masturbation. But I’m not aroused. Far from it. I’m lost in my own thought, as per usual.

Music drifts in and out of thoughts.

Sex drifting in and out of thoughts.

I want to be held and rocked to sleep. I want to feel.

The wee small hours are the most painful. I realize that I’m alone.

Help me.

I can’t help but muse about being alone. I’m sorry if I’m boring you or upsetting you, but it’s just so daunting. I think I’ve lost a bit of myself in the past few days. Could still be there though. In the teeny tiny corner of my mind, I am hidden.

Fuck, I need to sex up my mind. But I can’t. I can’t concentrate on anything and I feel miserable. Fuck.

Previous Post
Next Post
Leave a comment

Whisper to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: