Every door closes on him.
Preying on vulnerable open wounds -healing will never begin.
Investigate those eyes before committing to a reprise.
Listening to melodies – Sirens come with mixed genitalia -long hair is but one disguise.
take a ruler to the heart – measure the worth of sufferance again.
Sever the connection – scatter archaic ashes in rivers – imposing artificial zen.
Follow your path. Look at how far you have climbed.
Never forget the struggle of clinging onto that mountain – raging, over-imbibed.
How many tears must you swallow before realizing he only wants you to taste his edifice?
He will spin webs of verse -words veiled in lust just to share his murderous impotent vice.
Remember the reality – the aftershock of his insults.
Remember the silence- the disrespect – the calculated spasmodic my mind has no google map whereabouts
This is a wake-up call – a reminder – It is not just you- he has chosen in an attempt to toast with a contrived roast.
He suffers from genuflecting self-esteem issues that cause the desertion of Hells own residential ghosts.
You and he are not alike.
You and he are not alike.
You and he are not alike.
You have a mind that looks for the good- seeks to find friendship without shame.
He has a mind that will convince you are ruined to think two genders can reasonably rhyme or mime without the bane of another unfulfilled echo of ‘I just came’
Take this negative,
filter out all color from this overspeeding thought.
Look at the skeletons – black and white – bones tell the history of those who he tried to thwart.
He’s alone for reasons he alone can only answer for.
Keep hold of your bright light for those who offer you a light when they sense a dull veil surround your core.
Gentle men and women don’t give ultimatums laced with sexual innuendos.
Sing this kumbaya to those ready for climatic conscription conditioning,
volumize the colony of desperados.
*dedicated to all the toxic pricks I’ve ever met. You taught me how to recognize your kind well. Namaste*
words tantalize her very mind.
every adjective ,every noun resounds in the primal part of her -hidden and bound.
Let loose to its device it would seduce a nation of puritans .
Her sin is her lifestyle.
She heard this from the one who set her mind free with tempting condiments.
Honey dripping, swarming bees pollinating with a delicate fleur.
opening one up to her fullest bloom – Every species took one look at her and at the same time uttered the name: Allure.
Saucy enough to steam rouge to her usually pale cheeks.
Thoughts of rollicking in clouds, scented of meadow dew satin sheets.
Thorns might sting when they draw blood from the skin,
only you will know if it is worth pursuing the unrequited ache from the arousing pain consuming you from within.
Tempting, stealthlike- scented whispers , send flowered vines, to contain too much movement, from your limbs .
skin on skin contact is pure.
where is the shame of needing to remember what it is to live -fill the arid ,parched crevices, in need of moist hymns?
Trust, this fleur won’t hurt you, not even when you tempt her with mental visions that send her sweet nectar into a frenzied hive -alerting drones, intoxicated .
Merely, one queen combing her hair – let down your guard -let go of the bumbling confusion.
She can protect you,stop you from ignoring the drumming of what your heart truly yearns,
Connected by an incongruent rhythm , a dance you both control by merely partaking in making up the infusion.
Lilac and lavender -fields of frivolous laughter and secret ,coy smiles.
Lay down in fields born out of mother nature – her approval aligns your contoured bodies by joining in with earth tremors – exasperating your gratified sighs.
Free spirited, close to the ocean. She wants to be entangled – one body -a symbiotic union of something quite close to adoration.
Waves of emotions to deep sea dive in. La Tresor de la Mer – reeds, fish, seabeds ,caves to navigate together – dive in the deep end to begin with this exploration .
How to know if two souls are meant to keep the other lit?
A meeting of minds – a meeting of many kinds before one can promise the other that somehow they can see how it will come together and fit.
Hold your breath and enjoy the ride. Don’t struggle against the motion, the tide , leave la Mer to her dramatic side.
When you stop fighting and accept that water was 9 months of your first gilded breath.
Will we know if,
we are meant to glide and soar and tumble in the same sky -with nothing to hide -publicly side by side.
I just wanna do my thing.
I don’t wanna hurt nobody or anybody with the way I decide to go.
I’m all heart – Sensitive a subject of the dark arts but in truth, I can’t really stop the blood flow;
coursing through my veins. I don’t need blood clots to interfere with my emotions.
I like to feel.
From time to time, circle crops set up home on my turf – I’d like to say it is an alien probing and feign ignorance, I can’t deny the familiar weight of sentimentality surgery.
Unforgettably invasive- it is real.
Paranoid thoughts – tension is all I have set on my watch dial. I know I have not been Santa’s best girl every time.
Honestly, I do enough good to save me from paying for another crime.
Honest intentions. Soul soft and pure. Warped sense of humor.
Bold, moody, loving ,trusting, overly sensitive cysts congregate into lumps, deciding on the logistics and geometrics, of developing a cost effective tumor.
Screams above – Take me – unleash me from the scourge of hell that I find my feet clad in cast iron.
No one else can cut the chain. Raggle out that last breath.
Breathe life into a place for the ones who seek redemption in their conceptualized Zion.
Fighting spirit. Fighting a war. A battle within – Gore – more gore .
Is this really all she has to show for herself and sell on the haggle market shop floor?
Life takes us down alleys where the shit tide threatens to pass the neckline.
Think quick, Grasshopper – put that cap on backward and move into a new gear. Time to engage and decline or re-define.
Shattered thoughts. Media social networks taunt. Pull the plug. I’m done with the fictitious lives.
Comparisons in a house of distorted mirrors. Insecurity breeds, incubate in these surroundings – glass shatters – contaminating other entities- is how it thrives.
about not the friends who are not .
Worry about the ones who are in ‘yours truly’ life and are what you would call ‘your lot’.
Happiness is not a concept. Dolce and Gabbana shoes heighten the germicidal sensation of Dopamine overload syndrome- early onset.
The human touch, the words we use. More lasting splendor than debiting additional digits from your visa card, in an attempt, to feel less deprived. Wage a bet.
Birthdays are for celebrating – don’t ignore the day you not only gasped but grasped your first true breath.
It takes skill to meander through the valleys, hills, low-lying turnstiles, the rabbit holes of seemingly eternal strife.
You have passed by many costly troll bridges – and managed to get away with what is most sacred – your life.
Another day has passed – look at what you have done not what you have lost.
Focus on your strengths, not your adversaries – no need to subject yourself to more savage beatings at an unnecessary cost.
No motivation – it’s okay,we all have these moments thinking we have forever lost our precious marbles
Get back on the wheel and break dance – do a wheely – show off that you have emerged from the eye of the storm – scarred but intact .
Be pleasant,smile it’s okay you’ve got this .Thank the alert, coast guard marshalls.
Live. Eat. Pray.
whatever you do,
always have your say.
Estranged from the one she loves. Cursed by her wretched, past associations.
Darkness, rough, clawing hands -grabbing flesh -their only Agenda: to satisfy their base emotions.
A hand constantly tugs at hers – out from the dark, away from these faceless haunters of hers, now theirs – a battle they now share.
This hand is different. It Brings her to the present – gallant and full of spirit. Thoughts don’t spiral now ,that his firm hands are exploring what he calls his divine pair .
Move right, move left, bite his neck , use your vulva walls to squeeze his penis.
Don’t overthink this. Allow your body to respond as natural as if you are indeed the mighty Goddess Venus.
‘Do you trust me ?’
Yes. I do.
She turns her back ,faces forwards, white shirt buttoned up to protect her neck, hands tied behind her back with a silk scarf –
not some silly boy scouts set.
Two well placed fingers on her neck ,apply pressure, stop her pulse -Distraction – she isn’t aroused but willing –
she just wants freedom and to forget.
Work for this moment.
Standing ,she entwines both legs around his torso.
She grinds on his concealed cock, feral, non performing in style , an aura lights up around them
– look at how they glow.
She wants to feel this.
She wants to feel. Lose herself in the moment
– not wonder if she is doing it wrong.
Two speeding hearts.
Two scents of merged sweat.
Too much expectation -she feels the ghosts of past, hum a sinister
-well remembered song.
He unties her.
He has got a better plan.
‘I love you’ , says he. ‘Trust me.’
He tells her to lie on the bed and she does as he bids.
Fingers explore every part -deep inside her , the surface of her walls, her clitoris – he’s trying to find her G spot –
the Agenda is clearly not to breed a bunch of of kids.
She closes her eyes, tries to drift off. Don’t think -just feel- get past the urge to scream stop and run to empty an imaginary full bladder.’
‘Look at me,’ says he. Her eyes flicker open. She hears her breathe , her muscles relax, her legs no longer tense.
She looks into his eyes, tumbles in with a depth and an alluring candour.
There is a break through – no fire works but a result. A triumph of sorts. She didn’t lose herself to forget.
Stars turn out ,wink at her, applauding her ability to mentally let go, without feeling like she has hung herself –
missed one letter from the alphabet.
She pulls him close to her – whispers-
‘what is in this for you? I didn’t get a chance to fulfil your needs -cut you off – stopped you in your tracks . Call me Goddess Asphyxiate’
He kisses her and smiles.
‘I think we have moved forward . I get great pleasure in being the one , I feel I have earned my title to stand beside you as your King , all I asked was for your trust and for this reason I was able to conciliate.
I didn’t think I would want to write tonight. Then I started catching up on your blogs and once again you inspired me.
THANK YOU TO UNTANGLED -your post inspired this one.
Friendship is a theme I feel embarrassed to write about.
I could blame my lack of being a girl with loads of girlfriends on being an only child but I have to be honest and say I was unofficially “adopted “by a family of three brothers and a sister when I was 8 years old.
Life was good then. I know I have always been overly sensitive – blame that on insecurity perhaps.
Insecurity is a learned emotion. I’m learning to unlearn being insecure and vulnerable. I’m doing surprisingly well to be honest.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t friendless. I always had friends in some shape or form but I never could make that full sorority sister- hood connection.
It’s not me!
I was the reader. The one who loved to look at family pictures and laugh about silly shit.
I also moved around from place to place -country to country- a lot. I don’t think that helped.
I appreciate the travel and the different cultures now but then it wasn’t so cool.
I don’t know if this is a mental illness “thing”. I do think having mental health issues took a lot of my time.
A lot of my years, to be exact. This is a valid point I am making – it is MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS WEEK FROM 16TH -22ND MAY2016– the theme this year is coincidently about friendship.
This post is kind of coming together.
I have had so many extend the hand of friendship over my life so far and I try . I do try and reciprocate….
….then I doubt myself.
I think are they pitying me ? WHAT IS THEIR TRUE AGENDA?
I have been used -soemthing we can all relate too? Or is it just me?
Isn’t that sad – in a pathetic sort of way?
I don’t think it is easy to make genuine friends who will stick by you through everything.
I’ve had quite a few people( who seem to have the rock star of friendship crowds) – reach out to me to ask for my opinion or to talk.
I wander around my mind questioning why not their closest friends?
I’ve got my hen do coming up and I suppose that has got me thinking a lot about friendship too, for obvious reasons.
There is random assortment of lovely people invited.Some I have known for many years in different ways and some not so long.
Surely, I can’t be the only one who feels this?
I don’t think people would volunteer if it wasn’t for at least part of the potential social life aspect.
I see these girls with their girlfriends and I wonder…
I don’t wander.
Am I lonely?
I think the saying about being in a room full of acquaintances and friends and still feeling alone and lonely holds true.
I sense I could be on stage -people come to see me and still feel alone.
I was feeling kind of emotional a few days ago (that time of month, wedding stress and life ) and a bit insecure with this whole hen do coming up.
My Ma is organising it and she has invited a bunch of people –
I got it in my head that these people were using the pity card and I cried to my Ma on the phone – (yes, 34 year old women do cry sometimes)
“I don’t have any friends “
My Ma was on the other end of the line and said
“I’m your friend”
She is -possibly one of the best friends I have ever had.
I said my good byes and wiped away my tears and then one friend I have known for years rang me. She is not very well. We have one of those when I see/speak to you -we pick up where we left off.
She wasn’t doing too well and I listened like I always do but then I had to tell her to listen to me.
This is new territory for me.
I told her all about my crap day and week and the shitty people I had to talk too and she just listened. We ended the phone call -laughing.
Another friend rang me and again – not a person I see all the time but we had a good giggle too.
So this brings me to the question can a person who services your car, as an example, become a friend?
I am supposing yes. Especially, when I consider the amount of life details and secrets we know about one another.
To me that person becomes my friend when I feel a sense/duty of loyalty towards that person.
I get on with guys but it would be awesome to find out what the whole ‘Sex and the city’ or ‘Friends’ friendship life is like.
So, yeah, I often took the lonely route to wherever I was headed -forever getting lost…
…even when the phone was shrieking at me to pick up – people were reaching out to come and get me. I couldn’t reach back.
I can’t have regrets.
Not all people are meant to be friends.
Some I am glad I am not friends with. I have seen many fickle people in my time too.
DUPLICITOUS is a good word for how I’ve seen some people do “friendship”
I don’t need a hundred- a handful of close and true friends would be one genie wish.
I don’t know….
What I do know is, that the ones who turn up to my hen do – there is a bunch of people I have known for many years and some only a few. We have all had our lives to endure and I’ve noticed a lot of the people I’ve got to know -hold back too.
I may not have a thriving social life with a hundred and one mates but the ones who let me be me and genuinely are there for me are the ones that count.
It only takes ONE to make it count…
Thanks for the inspiration….
I don’t feel embarrassed any longer.
I feel free and I feel authentic and I never want to fucking change that part of me.
that’s it. I guess 🙂
“Sex is a part of nature. I go along with nature” – Marilyn Monroe
WHY THIS QUOTE ?
We are all adults- at least I hope you are and if you are a teenager reading this post, it should empower you.
I am not shy to speak about sex, my sexuality and my experiences. I won’t go into to loads of detail. So this is not a post that needs a adult only rating.
I’ve not had any positive male role models in my life who have shown me how a woman and her sexuality should be treated: with respect.
My Dad and I had a distant relationship. I mean this in a role model way.
I can say that almost all of my life, I have felt like I have had to serve men. I’ve never thought about my own pleasure. I always found myself needing to fake it ,to get through it as quick as possible ,so that whichever partner I was with at the time got what he wanted.
I have never, in all my years experienced a sexual experience where I felt safe, sober,sexy,adventurous for my own gain and respected.
It is no secret that I have been exploited by men from the age of 5 years old. I’m not going into this now because this is not what this post is about.
However, at this age , was the starting point for where I set my bar for what I would allow a man to do to me sexually. I have never enjoyed being touched. I have always felt unsatisfied.
Before G,I can recall one occasion when I had sex and felt connected and fulfilled and respected
.One of those moments where I woke up naked in the arms of this person and all our parts fit together. Each body part found a way to be not two but one.
It feels like I have had this sexual exploitation radar switched on for 15 odd years.
I didn’t know what I liked or how to enjoy myself. I attracted men who didn’t get me. In all fairness I was a a mighty glacier to contend with.
Some men tried to be patient but I gave nothing of myself. I didn’t know how to give anything. It all felt unnatural. They tried to chip away the ice but mostly ended up chipping away more of my self esteem and confidence. Their words always sounded a bit like this to me
I forced myself to buy into to it but I never felt the urge to just go with that feeling.
In all honesty, the feeling of losing myself and expressing myself sexually terrified me, in some ways it still does. Saying that, these days I am not so afraid to express myself.
We are all different.
What I thought I enjoyed sexually, was aggressive and all for the taking. I gave and the men took everything they could. This power over me usually trickled over into the areas of my life.
I found that because I was not treated as an equal in bed. Men picked up on my lack of confidence and this automatically took away more respect they had for me as a person, outside of the sexual arena. I was constantly mind fucked and used.
I allowed all this.
If sex were likened to golf .I didn’t know my handicap score – I didn’t know where or how to measure it so, I lost frequently.
places that went way yonder in a forest somewhere.
It became harder and harder to even think of trying to find my sexuality.
So, I shut down.
I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD EVER BE A CREATURE WHO DESIRES SEX.
I’ve realised that respect and patience can’t be time limited with me.
I am that really difficult oyster that refuses to be prised open . I finally realise I am the one with the pearl inside that has the most potential to mould and solidify into a Somebody to be valued.
We all have varying degrees of states of sexual confidence.
All oysters have the potential to become a fully formed pearl so do humans. It is a process and a process cannot be rushed. That is unnatural . I don’t like anything fake.
Trust and true love can’t be rushed.
so here is what I have learned about me and my sexuality
I can’t enjoy myself knowing there are heavy expectations on me with sex as the end product.
I get turned on by the mind. Banter and talking and allowing another to open up their mind and emotions to me is sexy. It turns me on.
Laughter and not taking sexual innuendos too seriously is my kind of foreplay. This fore play is not time specified.
It is more of a build up. It has no expiry date or use by date on it.
I need too feel relaxed and I need to feel safe and this takes time.
I don’t use drugs or alcohol when I want to be sexually satisfied.
I don’t want to miss a thing (thanks Steve Tyler) I want to be fully present.
I only enjoy taking control when I feel like I am taking control to make sure I fee I am getting something out of it by making love or a quickie and then I find I naturally become a flirt and a bit of a tease – I do deliver but on my terms.
Taking control in my way makes me feel sexy.
Sex doesn’t have to be aggressive. It is more fun when it is playful.
I don’t enjoy gadgets and movies and lying motionless.
I want to move .
I love to be dominated.
I am not turned on by TOO much oral sex. It is not for me. As my sexuality and experimentation grows things may change.
They may not.
I know I am having sex for me when I am asked if we should carry on. If I kiss back -pull away and kiss back and then pull away again then I’m usually turned on and the foreplay can start moving forwards.
I didn’t realise how hard it would be to write this post.
The body and mind is a fascinating machine. It can re learn to trust and respond.
I love to close my eyes and lay back and just enjoy the direction of where my body takes me.
Yes, I have had issues but all the other men (bar one)have made me feel an oddity because of it.
The sad truth is some women never get to experience what a truly equal sexual experience is. They may think the way they play out their sex live is truly what they want.
I have felt this too in my life. my gut instincts told me I was wrong.
If you are not getting an orgasm or somewhere close to it – bearing in mind that an orgasm doesn’t always have to be physical ,it can take place in your mind.
If none of this is happening most of the time,then in my experience, the sexual pleasure is one sided.
To want to reciprocate for myself has been my biggest indicator yet that I am owning my sexuality and enjoying the reaction I get from getting naked and being touched.
I know I am loved unconditionally.
There have never been bribes or guilt trips or “let’s try this” to elicit some response(even if it is pretend on my part) so it feels like “we” are both getting something good out of the experience.
I’ve had to go through my share of men – consented and not –to get to this point in my life.
I never ever thought, I would desire and lust and want to look and feel in control. I’ve never felt sexy until now and it has been worth been 100% worth it.
Fuck me, this was a hard post to write.. 😀
If you reading this I kind of hit publish !