Saw a couple holding hands on the street today. They looked... tender. I just stood there with a cigarette hanging from my mouth, trying to remember what it felt like to want something besides a hard cock or a fistful of cash. I don't even think my cunt works like that anymore—it's just a hole that opens when money's involved. Sometimes I touch myself at night and feel nothing. Just skin. I wonder if that part of me died when my father first put his hands on me, or if it got fucked out of me somewhere along the way. Either way, it's gone. Don't know why I'm even thinking about it.