I want to be touch.
Finger fucked.
Bent over.
On all fours.
Your thick manhood.
Pounding me into submission.
Touch me... Soft..
Like a newborn.
Make me weep with the tenderness of your love.
You get so mean sometimes.
I try to please you.
But I'm not submissive enough.
Bad submissive.
Bad.
I'm independent.
A boss.
A woman of power, genius, and appetites.
I don't need you.
I want you.
But you want me to need.
You want to be my only need.
You want to be the air I need to breathe.
I can't.
I've survived too much life to make myself that helpless.
Ever again.
I can't give you what you need.
So I walk away.
Alone.
I sometimes wonder if I can be in a healthy relationship and have my appetites sated.
I don't know.
I will touch myself and be single.
Work on myself and stay busy.
And perhaps all the busy will override the overwhelming ache of living without you.
It's time to move on.
