You don’t know the feeling of my skin, or the sound of my breath. You don’t know how touch-starved I am, do you? How eager and desperate to please. I don’t think you know my name, or the way my lips form around yours. Oh, but how I wish you felt the longing in my chest. The aching pain. For you must know that it astonishes me still, how broken you’ve made me. How cold you stand, shivering in my soul. As I fall apart, engulfed in my own flames.