I am not alone here, and my tastes are running dark.

I slipped in to a familiar skin tonight and played with a friend. I was rusty. The words that used to come so easy faltered in my fingertips. She was inside of me, still. He was as well. I was just unused to giving them voice.

Here, in my newest build, I am weak. I am soft. Have I lost my touch?

*sighs*

Such familiar pleasures, mine to pluck. And I did not.

Was I unable, or was I unwilling? This question lingers, but does nothing for me tonight.

Tonight, my tastes run dark. I am not alone, but will he play?

*gazes at his prone form*

He is sleeping, and I won't disturb him for this. He couldn't play. He wouldn't understand.

Ich habe keine Lust mich nicht zu hassen
Hab' keine Lust mich anzufassen
Ich h�tte Lust zu onanieren
Hab' keine Lust es zu probieren
Ich h�tte Lust mich auszuziehen
Hab' keine Lust mich nackt zu sehen

But this disturbs me. Will my old shadows be enough for me if I settle into normalcy? Could they? Would they? Satisfaction is so hard to find. This part of me has found solace in no one place, drawing fuel from multiple sources. Dreams of contentment haunt me.

*watches the clove between her fingertips burn, perfumed, blue smoke making her eyes water*

Wanted: A cause to my effect. A take to my give. An opponent in my game.

*glances at him behind her again, and back at the screen before her*

I should join him. He would want me to. He would look at the time and frown at the empty spot next to him. But I crave the stimulation. Once more, always once more, only once more.

I want to play tonight. My tastes run dark, and I'm not alone. And you have no idea what that means.

*swallows the last of her juice and begins to close the multiple windows*

I'll go to him instead. Find my salvation in his arms, his lips. I doubt I'll find it elsewhere tonight.