Empty Sex

These visions, these thoughts.

I feel a twinge of angry and jealousy, and it evaporates.

I’m slightly annoyed and then it vanishes.

I can’t even describe it as angst when I see these visions.

I can’t must up enough emotion to care.

Just empty sexual hallucinations.

It’s never you, it’s always “someone else” but your face is on them, a deep fake. A psychic fucking deep fake.

Over and over.

Right before I try and fall asleep.

I’m not even sad.

I can’t go back in time, teleport to your location and start a fight with the guy.

I never could.

I’m not clairvoyant, especially not on a messenger applications, millions of miles and computers away.

I can’t tell by the words on the screen whether or not you were lying.

I can’t, I couldn’t do anything, then and now.

A hollow realization.

Emptiness, but not the good “Zen” kind.