To Yearn Is To Suffer, One Way Or Another

I want so many things I want to be kissed on the cheek I want to be told "Your hair looks so soft! Can I feel it?" I want to be hugged As though I could slip away at any second I want so many mundane things But of course I could never say any of that To do so would be to break social standing And status quo So instead I spout it off to the internet Online Or in a journal Where faceless beings Or future historians Might read it and feel The mortifying horror of asking All of us agreeing To pretend we don't want it too