Empty

I wish I had the touch to heal you,

the words to undo your pain...

but they are locked deep inside

a dark crevice, unreachable.

I've tried!

I've screamed and raged,

bled and wet your body

with my tears,

but you don't see or feel.

Do I mean nothing to  you?

So unaffected are you by my pain

I have to wonder if you see me at all.

I've prayed to God so many times,

I wonder some days if He is real.

I've prayed so many times I feel

like nothing but a selfish whore,

promising things I know I can't deliver

just to feel something from the man

I spend my life with.

I give and give,

sacrifice and love to excess,

but my cup is dry.

If someone came along

and offered me just a sip

of sweetness, I would gulp

it down greedily,

never stopping to think

of the consequences.

How sad is that?

I know...I know...

I'm supposed to love myself

and let God fill my emptiness,

but to be quite honest,

somedays that just doesn't

seem to be enough.

Somedays I want to feel

flesh and blood and tears.

I want to feel my heart pound,

and my skin turn to silk

underneath the tender caress

of someone who loves me.

I want to feel the passion and heat,

the emotion that comes from loving

and giving and receiving.

If that is wrong,

then I suppose I am bound for hell.

But for now, my cup remains empty.