Their agony kneads itself into my flesh.
I'm bread dough.
And I resent myself for my petty jealousies
as they spin through their tragedies.
At least they have something fucking real.
And how sicksicksick must I be to feel
this way, huh?
God I want someone to touch me,
to feel so delightfully, shamefully human -
instead of this digital shell of one.