Just once

I’ve never met one man that was any different than the next.

I would love to be proven wrong.

Just once. 

I would rejoice in that moment of just one man that could show me how wrong I was, I would fall at his feet and worship the ground he walked on for as long as I drew breath.

But I’ll die first before I ever meet a man that only sees me, that never stops to gaze too long and lust fully at another female. 

I don’t believe in that “it’s biological” bullshit.

I don’t follow that “I’m a man, I’m hardwired to be this way” bullshit.

I don’t buy into the “alpha male” bullshit.

You are not cavemen. 

Romance and love are dead. 

I no longer believe in love. I no longer will allow myself to get swept up in romanticizing love or romance. I’m done. My heart cannot take another rip at the seams. 

And I am devastated hearing my voice tremble through salty waves of tears as. I pray for rain, I pray I drown in the ocean of these tears for I cannot breathe through this anymore. 

Taste for blood

I’m not a badass bitch.
I’m a warrior and a survivor, 

I’m a goddess and a caregiver.

I turn my pain into 

whatever I have to turn it into, 

to push through.

I am there for the people I love

and I rise again and again 

to help those, 

that just need a little kindness.

I am tired, I am bleeding out,

I’m irrevocably scarred.

I don’t want to just survive, 

I don’t want to have to keep

picking up my sword.

I keep taking hit after hit,

I’m getting a taste for my own blood.

I feel my bones breaking,

and my psyche and soul shattering.

This isn’t rock bottom,

this is six feet under.

I’m not living, I’m coping. 

and I don’t know 

how much longer

the taste of my own blood 

will save me.

I am becoming a monster.

I am becoming dangerous.

I am breathing fire.

If I don’t fall apart and die,

I may develop a taste

for someone else’s blood.

I need to live,

and I don’t remember how.

I’ll tenderly kiss every one of your scars

And consume your soul while sucking your dick

Do not underestimate me

The eyes see

You absolutely do not have to be the man that loves me. But do not ever be so bold to expect that I will share little pieces of myself with you, I don’t shatter anymore for those who don’t mean to actively and intentionally love me. I don’t give away what I know can be treasured by someone. I don’t expect just any man to be able to fulfill that kind of need versus want. To me, he is already extraordinary, and I mean to help him be the King he is. And. Only one man will do. Him. And I will know the moment He smiles, when he sees me. 

Dystopian dreams

I used to think I wanted a crazy love, that I wanted a love that will defy all sanity. But as I have gotten older, I’ve gotten wiser. 

I want peace, I want to feel safe, I want someone genuinely interested in me. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder or wondering who the man I am in love with is talking to behind my back or when I’m not around. 

I don’t want want crazy anymore. Yes I would love to be THE object of all his desires, yes I want him to be crazy about me and me crazy about him, but in a healthy way. I don’t want my mind to be given the chance to run amuck with anxious thoughts and always worrying if I am all he wants. 

I want someone that KNOWS what the fuck they want. I don’t want to be the girl they go to when they’re caught in the middle of an existential crisis or mid-life crisis. I don’t want the man to come to me broken, to nurse his ego and confidence back so he can leave me and go find his true love or find the confidence to fuck everything pretty in heels. 

I want someone that sees me and wants to stay. I don’t mind broken, I am broken. We all are broken a little. Why is it so fucking hard to find a man that will bring me peace and make me feel safe? I know this can’t be a dystopian dream! 

A man that loves me will find a way to talk to me or see me every day. I wont be too much or too little for him. He won’t be able to sleep knowing I am upset or hurt. He will move mountains to make sure my heart feels his love. 

Maybe I am silly for wanting this or believing it is even possible, but I feel it in my bones. I know I am worth the kind of love I can give. I just need one man to realize it. He’s out there somewhere, waiting for my love. I feel him thinking of me too, wondering where I am. 

Stop telling me I deserve better

Do better 

Rambling on

 Speak softly and carry a big gun

You can’t be my devil anymore 

I can’t be your good deed

Awakened by the silence

Rebirth found in the ruins

When you say you want to feel something, be specific, because pain is something altogether different

I am busy being insane

And unreasonably paranoid

She loved like she lived, dangerously, with a bit of fear and a bit of hope.

Trouble, he was, and she was reckless with want.

Always giving chase 

For moments that stand still

Is it too much to ask to be your poetry

And 

The lust you crave when you wake

A trunk full of bodies and the ghosts that would haunt me

Last night I dreamt you kissed me, softly, passionately, in quiet places that now roar to feel your shameless lust

The narrative in my head and trying to write what I am feeling is too discombobulated

Intoxicated by the kisses from stars that shimmer like beating hearts.

We should stand here and bleed

Into the sky

And forests

Like the ripples in the ocean

Like ancient stories

Yet to be told

It is my river of thought that holds the most dangers for me to drown.

Give me fire and passion, urgency and the rawness of letting go so my soul is suspended in midair.

My demons surrender to my apathy too easily

Bisect into limbs, not parts

In the gardens by light of the moon

The air screamed or maybe it was me

Muscles aching I crawl to him from the tent into the chill evening air, starving like my ribs are breaking

Returning to a sleep of centuries, once my appetite is satiated

Silent revelations by the embers of a flickering campfire

Bedfellows of privilege 

Taste sweeter when earned

There are those, we don’t care what they do or say

We love them anyway

I wish I could bleed the words I feel, words never feel enough

I’ve cut myself a thousand times trying to collect the shattered pieces of my heart.

And still I cannot hate you

She is flesh and blood 

And a fool

He deprives me a sane existence 

His whispers of eating me alive with sinful kisses

I am left to confess my madness

Tracing the lines 

Carving pieces of me away

Like bone, ivory and jade 

Sinuous and undulating

A raw love

Unfettered of societal impositions and intrusion 

Honest, pure, deep

And illuminated by only the stars

To love

Is to lose yourself every day

And find your soul 

Without exception in every moment

Like any starving beast

You must feed your love

For yourself, to yourself 

then

For others

Sometimes I remember everything about you 

And I feel particularly stabby with a lil bit cleaver and hell of a lot of flamethrower

Maybe you were never you

And I was never me

If we can’t visit graveyards together, it’s never going to work

I don’t want to be calm anymore 

I am here to raise hell 

And be swept up furiously by the currents in the Rivers of Hades

Paper hearts stay suspended in the broken in-betweenness

Mutual fascination, mischief and sensuality

Over and over

I delicately wrap the ravaged bleeding beast 

In ribbons and bows

And place the exquisite toy in your hands

That moment just before the first wave of desire consumes you, where you stop breathing and everything else ceases to exist

Take me there

Which one of us wasn’t broken somewhere in between

On feathered wing I soar

From the shadows I reach

Like silence falling I sink

Whispers the wind

I’ll give you the knife to carve away the pain in my heart, and write your name with the love that drips from the blade

Tears of penance tumbling into the wishing well of hope

I wonder if I gave in to this constant need to crack open this cage and tear through the skin and be free to come and go as I please, would I?

And what of hope

I’m still crying over the death of my heart

Shattered illusions

I don’t give in to you, I surrender to you

Windmills and ghosts in my mind

Promises and other hollow creatures

I can cut you into pieces when my heart is, broken

A master of my feelings, words and poetry 

In an alternate universe

My fingers drag slowly 

The way your lips used to

And I sigh your name

Staying too long

Lingering in all the everything 

The mornings after you

Release me again

All these moments 

All these words

Standing on the edge

of my lips

Forgetting to fall

The distraction you want

Is blooming and becoming 

The distraction you need

Exquisite little deaths

Give them all to me