I’m annoyed.

With all the things. All the stuffs.
The noise. The lights. The constant hum of too much everything.
It’s all too loud, and yet,
I’m aching to be held.
Craving a hug, a touch, something soft to ground me.
I know.
It makes no sense.
I make no sense.
But since when have I ever been easy to explain or made much sense?
Make it make sense.