I pull myself off the couch,
Shaky,
Soggy banana in hand,
And head toward the kitchen.

I drop the mutilated fruit
Into the trash can
As I wonder to myself,
"Why can't I do this
During sex?"

As I stare at the object
That enabled my
Self-pitying masturbation,
I wonder for the millionth time
If I have a problem.

As always,
Though usually without the fruit,
I feel sad, slightly depressed,
Mostly disgusted.

I read somewhere that
The brain is the most sexual organ.
Sometimes I wonder if getting off
Would be easier without one.