i feel worthless. i feel sick. i ache for the warmth of his blood. a tick. parasitic. is that what i really am? what am i good for? will i ever be worth more than my warmth? the shape of my body, the features of my face. the way i feel on his manhood is the only glimpse he'll care to take. into the sea, the choppy waters where i suffocate. he'll never reach out to touch me. not me.