What am I doing? Christmas with a sickly toddler

Sitting here watching a still tv
Playing scenes in my head
As if you were sitting beside me.

Slightly high on painkillers
Feeling the aches and pains
Begin to lessen and wither

You’re in bed with the sickly boy.
I should be asleep and dreaming.
Instead, I sit and feel lonely.

We already talked of the weather,
The tv show, the food for Xmas day.
I’m running out of mental material.

I could be lying in bed, daydreaming
Of naked flesh and caresses
But nothing makes frustration worse.

Then thinking of someone, so near
Yet too far away to fondle.
Without a sniff of an orgasm.

I’ll go to bed soon on finishing tea,
I’ll snuggle down deep all alone.
I’ll tell myself, it will all be better

Over Christmas, we will both get ‘done’

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *