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yours. it is not enoughto want metoo manyonly want no, you must huntand capture me and when I am caughtrip me apartsplit my limbsbefore devouring meturn my insides outand outsides inand then back togetheras you see fit so that I amrebornrecreatedby my captor, my owneras a thing that isdistinctly and perfectlyyours the blood& the bones
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struggle. Some days I am solid, stable. I am blood, bone and belonging. Human and unbroken. One part mine. One part theirs. One part yours. And some days I feel as if I am no longer tangible. An object that cannot be held. Just sand through fingers. Still words and ideas. Still rage and lust.…
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alive. at firstI was all that was beautifulbut then I leftas I said many times that I wouldand once you understoodI’d never returnsomehow I then became the blood in your mouththe dirt under your fingernailsthe cut on your tonguesomehow I was nowthe pang in your chest and the burn in your throatof the spirits that…
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anew. each time you thinkmy tongue has never been so sweet, so eagermy hips never so invitingbut I am your cradleyour vessel of renewalmade to hold youmade to rock and away together in this ritualI am the place you come to lose and find yourselfto restore what they continually takerest here as long as you…
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I could not stop. It did not work that way. So I sat with my arms overflowing with it in a room full of windows and watched as life moved ever on even when I was only able to sit still. the blood & the bones
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finally. I have been mine for so longa solitary stara singular beingthat being ownedbecoming someone’s someoneshould feel foreign, unnatural to mebut with you it is easya natural progressiona slip into submissionas if I have never journeyed aimlesslyas if every road carried meto this belonging the blood& the bones We are balanced. His masculinity matches all…
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don’t run.don’t run.don’t run. this fear, this doubt..they are only temporary.or are they?because for so long they have lived here.embedded into who I am.building walls.making a home of me. and, if I’m being honest, I know that in my head everything ends.why not do it on my own terms?before it’s too late.I know better than…
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Friday marks 1 year without you, Mama. One whole year since I held your hand and your body held your last breath. I am a strong person, but I have to say that I don’t know how I have carried this so long without setting it down at all. I have felt the need to…
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you still want me in winter when the fields seem barren and the sun seems like mostly gone I am still here with an early autumn in my bones with a summer in my ribcage for safe keeping but I know I am often cold to the touch pulling from you like dead leaves swirling…
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how terrifying it is to knowI am going to have the life with you that I have always prayed forbecause now I must pray that I can be worthy of it .. the blood& the bones
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The Blood & The Bones 