Touch me. Please touch me.
I want to feel. Skin on skin. A gentle caress, to leave a contrail of goosebumps in its leisurely wake. A scratch, to leave a line, the white slowly budding into red, sharp to numb to tingle to sting. A pinch, to draw all of my attention to that one point, just for an instant, before it scatters inward again. A twist of my skin, to untwist my mind, to push the unbearable heaviness of my thoughts into the oppressive shadows of my nonexistent soul.
Another instant passed. Survived. Please touch me. Just touch me.