Kittylele

Come undone

I ache
loud in the quiet,
all heat and bad decisions,
skin tuned to your presence
like it knows the signal.

You don't rush me.
That's the cruel part.
You let the wanting swell
until I start to beg.

Your gaze
presses harder than your hands,
slow authority,
velvet sharp,
and my breath stutters
trying to behave.

I tip forward,
willingly,
all hunger - all yes,
thirst written in the curve of my spine
and the way I have to wait.

Say nothing.
Just look at me like that.
I'm already undone.

**t **ttyreads

Dead inside

Being dead inside feels like
being hollow
but heavy.
It's like my chest is a tin can
filled with fog -
nothing solid,
yet it presses outward.

It's dark, but not dramatic.
Just absent.
My body goes numb in layers,
as if
sensation is switched off
room by room.

My brain doesn's stop.
It keeps moving
without warmth,
thoughts sliding past each other,
no grip, no spark.
Just the cold.
Everything exists,
but none of it reaches me.

I'm empty
and somehow holding everything at once -
noise without sound,
weight without shape.
I'm here,
but there's no depth to me anymore.