I hate sex

(this coming from a virgin)

it turns me into something I’m not

something un-me

I hate it when I catch myself staring at her legs, fantasising about running my hand up her thigh and caressing her through her underwear

NO!

its back

the urges –

the urges life would be so much simpler without –

I hate the thoughts more than I hate sex

I hate how sex complicates life

I wish I wouldn’t sneak glances at her breasts –

admiring their firmness –

and wondering what it would be like to hold them as she moans with excitement

NOT AGAIN!

intellectually I admire morals, faith, humour

but part of me is looking at her shell

how her lips would feel around my penis,

how fun her ass would be to grab

I calm

I accept

I deal

two conflicting sides warring as I struggle to forge relationships and maintain friendships

both sides eternal

both sides troubling

both sides permanent