There’s this guy I like because he makes my heart race and that happens so rarely.
Fuck! If I’m afraid this shit won’t work.
Dear Guy I Like,
Here’s my freak flag. I didn’t have time to wrap it. If you like it, yay! If you don’t….::sad panda::
Being someone you’re not for a feeling may seem like the most appealing path. It’s an exhausting waste of time in the long run.
People say actions, not thoughts, define you. I think they confuse thoughts with words. Actions and words are products of thoughts.
The silent disdain for a homeless person. The wish that your bank account wasn’t at 0 so you could buy that person gas. Wondering what the rape victim was wearing. Being happy about your kid’s award when your life is going to shit.
No one will ever love me.
Yeah. My money’s on thoughts for the definition win.
This won’t work. I can’t open up to you
But then I don’t really want to
I’m so tired of being afraid they’ll see
All the dark inky parts of me
Bats fly out through unzipped skin
Never to fly back in again
Squeaky clean becomes the closet
Now what shall we deposit?
But then again what’s left of me?
All the things I still can’t see
So just for a while I’ll try to pretend
For soon enough we come to the end…
I have terrible confidence issues. Or anxiety. Or whatever the label is these days. And then I don’t because….I’m…complicated.
You see I’m terrified of not liking someone back. As if me not liking them back would somehow be the end of their house of cards style world because…honestly…I’m seriously important. Who could live without me? Really?
And here in the middle of the road (where we play in traffic) I need to learn that I’m awesome AND not everyone returns feelings. Indeed…it is a rare thing to be cherished but not relied upon. The love we need most is the love we give ourselves.
Bind me in the softest leather
Tightly to keep me together
Be sure to mark your favorite places
In among my weathered pages
Learn my stories, feel the words
Especially those unheard
And though you know I am not new
My cover is removed just for you
Lose yourself inside my leaves
And come together in sweet release
She’s a thief of time and attention
Eyes mysterious smile delirious
Full lips beg to be kissed
Full breasts you can’t miss
Aware of every move
Commanding lust not love
Dance with just a touch
Fingertips to hush
Leave you wanting more
But she’s not your whore
Any lingering contact
Does not require a contract
She loves to put on a show
That ends when she goes home
Very few can feed
Her deeper need
She does love to please
But for now she’s just a tease
If you go here there’s proof. If it’s on the internet it has to be true, right?
I post here periodically when I have a new poem to share and I get noticed which is amazing. Sadly my writing comes in very short bursts like the occasional broken water line. I try to function within the ordances of a broken government most of the time I guess. It makes my momentary inspirational moments seem more like malfunctions. That needs to change. I have a few readers and maybe one of them will point me in the right direction. I need a reading community to critique my work so I can formerly submit it for publication. Obviously I am willing to reciprocate. Below is the seventy-five hundred word short story that started it all. I wrote it from the point of view of a girl, but I was so intrigued by the creature (for lack of a better word) that I kept writing. I have a whole world now that includes one “finished” book, one that is almost finished, and plans for 8 more books. I need my tribe though.
Beware. It is dark erotica and definitely not for the young or fragile (emotionally or otherwise).