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all is silent now the battle drum is quiet you may not knowthat I am still herethat I have not leftthat I refuse to I am not like themI will not cower or runwhen you come undone even in the aftermath I am steady becauseI see youand all the piecesthat make you bravethat make you…
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you see softness in me but I ask not to be expectedto want merciful and tenderwhen I have only known stoneI need touch as roughas every battleI have fought and wonI want a fire to rage withinI need to feel it in my bones love me now with intensitywith hard thrusts and handsthat know how…
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We speak of forever.. And I only know what it means to me. A meaning that only took shape once I had leaned all the way in. It means that we were and we shall be. And that we have been and we have lived. In many places. And times. And bodies. We exist there,…
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love the wild in mebefore there isno stillness leftand I will not beor maybe cannot becaughtslowly relentingto what is more of meand less of themwhilst they proclaimthat I am lostbut is it my undoingor my resurrectionas I yield to what remainsunbroken, unbidden, yesyet I am unable to stop this changeeven as I am unsurewhen it…
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I will take the suffering or I will take the love. I will accept it with open hands or eagerly lick it from the cut. And I know it should but it matters not. This is my oath, my covenant to you. You ask for vows but for now all I can give you is…
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You believe the devil to be a gentleman, a fallen angel, a demon.. And a thing to be feared above all. But I do not. Have you ever felt the wrath, the cunning, the resolve of a woman scorned? One who has been torn apart and left to die too many times? One who must…
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holding space. they say it alters youto be understoodyet I am no less honed or wantingthan I ever wasbut there is one now who listens with intentionwith an ear that seeks to comprehendwhat I have not made words forholding my arms to my sidesresting my resistancegiving love a purposeand I feel stabilizedgrounded almoststill in such…
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surrender. is this what it means to be corrupted?I ask myselfas he spreads my thighs like dirty secretsalready painted red with the evidence of ownership and defiant desire that waits for nothingmy back arched, my hips compliantsurrendering with easeand no attempt to hide my wet and eager willingnessit’s written all over my body language and…
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Dear Me, I am writing this to you, in hopes, that somehow maybe time will learn to bend, and that perhaps 20 or maybe even 30 years will not be wasted. I know how you hate yourself. And how often you look in the mirror and all you see are the things you wish you…
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bruised. she feels the most alluringjust beforeintactuntouchedbut I say nono becauseunhindered perfectionnever suited my mind or my bodyit is better when handledwhen dealt withleft in breathless disarraymauled, battered, flushedred handprints framing slopes and curvespurple streaks within a gold rushtake, give, grab, releasethe skin at the endthe story of the strugglethis is when I am the…
