Sweet Ecstasy

I've been writing again. I don't know what's come over me, but I'm enjoying this feeling of creating again. Last time I wrote this much was my senior year of high school into my freshman year of college. I guess its because I have more time for it now. That or a yearning to express myself through words. Because unlike my past jobs, this one just pretty much has me silent. I rarely talk (which is unusual). So I guess because of my lack of talking and connecting with people and sharing my ideas/opinions, I'm writing them down instead. But lately my poems (if you can even call them that) have been very intimate/sexual, which is new. I'm just going to interpret them as me trying to connect with other people, but instead of doing it in person, its on paper. Pathetic that my life can be reduced to just bits of paper scattered haphazardly around me. Ah well. Here is one such pathetic poem that shows me trying to suppress my intimacy.

A lingering touch. A trail of ecstasy. Heat rising.
No thinking. Just actions.

Don't falter. Hush your worries. Just touch.
Can't hurt me. Won't hurt me.

Hearts pounding. Each embrace yearning for the next. Whispers throughout the night.
Can't sleep. Won't sleep.

Sweet ecstasy.

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