I am-in my tired and longing soul-partly contented to linger along the terrible depths of my emotional need.
In a pool of untouched desires and misguided hopes there is a place reserved for my hunger.
I ache for the touch of one whom desperately needs and craves my existence.
I am eager to please another soul in such a longing state as I.
Searches are futile, for my love slowly devours a rut that runs twenty times deeper into my heart.
Dissatisfied in the ways of my compassion I lock all feeling away, hoping it would dissolve.
I look for a place in my life to make someone significant happy, but find closed doors never to be reopened.
I am weary in the search for my soulís mate; exhaustion clouds my reason and I give in to emptiness.