Thursday, August 6, 2009

It happens again

I don't want to listen to music right now. I don't want to be reminded of good times or bad times. I don't want to be sitting here looking at someone baby feeding me spoon fulls of old shit that has been sitting on their lips for months. I don't know why I refuse to learn from the past. This chess game of life that I am always losing has gotten old. Same guy, Same Bullshit, Same excuses, Same its not you its me when in reality its, it's not you it's just that you are not her. I have not been her for the majority of my life. And I thank the Gods for that. Thank you for giving me the foresight to see that all these men; these boys who dream of an oil painted future framed by the sides of a black and white television are living a delusion that I am glad that is impossible to be cast in.

I am no saint but I am surely a good Woman. I cook for him, clean for him, I bathe the man, I clothe him, I sing his songs I hold him at night, I rub his muscles when he is sore. I am always the first person he calls when he is in need. I feel his heart when it hurts. I bind the books he reads and I support the walls around his head and I am still not good enough.

He tells me if I was his girlfriend officially then things would be different. If we had a spiritual connection everything would be better. We would kiss more and have better sex. "What we have is different because there's no future. " I've had amazing sex in the past when I've been in a relationship where there is trust". "you know when I was younger" "younger with who sweetheart". "oh of course".

this is Richmond. this is my heart. this is my head. this is these glasses sitting on the point of my nose as he sits there and tells me he wants to know what I think. I think you are simply you. you are you. A complete man.

What I think is I don't deserve you. Let me be alone forever rather than feel as unimportant as I do now. Let me lay alone in bed forever before I have someone looking at me wishing they could care. I am embarrassed about how much I talk about you to my friends. I am embarrassed about telling them how I feel about you. I look like a fool. I feel like a fool. I am laying here typing as you take off your shorts and lay down next to me. I like to feel you against me at night. The slightest touch of your body against mine makes my senses light up. I am happy, I am confident. Why do I keep doing this.

I give him my all with only asking to withhold one phrase. I refuse to tell you I love you. I refuse to say those words. What does three meals a day mean. What does our sex mean our kisses mean. What does every fucking day that I go to work come home happy to see you. Happy to be with you. Happy to believe in you. I thought you were happy. I thought we were happy.

Please leave and find someone better suited for you. I will not live a life based on lies. I will not promise someone a future that is non-existent. How can I promise forever when it is not in my grasp. I am just a Woman with my own personal life. I wanted you to be a part of my life as well but I clearly must have read the script incorrectly.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

I can't do it and I refuse to. I can't do relationships. The baggage the confusion the expectations it is archaec at best. Its just seems so elementry to me. It feels like giving up or giving in. A human being can live to be 100 years old. You can be sippin wine smoking a joint chilling hard on your 1ooth brithday. Why is it that women start freaking out after dating someone for 2 years I mean i know women who freak out after 2 months and yes it is women, we are to blame. We demand marriage, responsibilities and worst of all reproduction. It's sickening. I can't do it. I am freaking out on a serious level. I don't want to be anyones anything. There is a world full of men and women that I want to and will fuck the shit out of and then honestly forget.

Basing a life off of someone you have spent 2 percent of our life with is mathematically retarded. Not to mention a good 90 percent of things you want in life are based off of the genius brainwashing of televison and gender roles being reinforced ever time a commercial airs. Do we really like cleaning that much. Are we really that enthralled with shoe closets and chocolate. I myself and not. I am abandaning ship my friends. I am declaring my search for freedom. Those who want to come with me are more than welcome. The rest of you can keep puting on your makeup and reading books about what men want.

It's so irritating. I feel a huge disconnect from my sex. I feel that I am fighting against this clock. This clock is a war. I see my ladies falling. I see my ladies missing in action. I see them blown up in front of my eyes. I see them covered in napalm. I see babies. Lots of cute babies I want to hold them. They are adorable. I will fight this. Many of my ladies lose sight of the battle. one minute they are fighting the good fight and the next they are buying a swifter cleaner complaining about some guy not committing.
What am I to do.

I thought that one day I would find a warrior I could stand behind. We would live and learn together and I would be his and he would be mine. That life does not exist. I have become my warrior and I am perfectly satisfied with myself.

I'm just going on and on none of this matters. really it doesn't. its just my thoughts running. I am drinking a bottle of wine tonight. I deserve it. I am fighting yet another invisible demon in my mind. I am going to vanish one day. I can't wait.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

its my prerogative.

i had been stingy.
a prude you might say.
after years of giving it up.
and putting it out.
id made the decision.
to put it away.

i wasn't sucking.
or blowing.
or going.

i was stale.
we'd lay beside each other.
his dick in arms reach.
but id resist.

tempted to touch.

i remembered those nights.
when the only reason we'd sleep.
is because we couldn't come anymore.

i fantasized.
about those days.
bent over.
in front of open windows.

across something domestic.

wet with more than laundry.
but instead.
with pure lust.
and emotion.
and infatuation.

disgusting sex.
that would make any happy home.
a whorehouse.

i had cut that off.

until recently.
that is.

after laying there.
nights of waiting.
dick with in grab.

i made like at&t.
and reach out.
and touched someone.

not only did i touch.
i sucked.
and i fucked.
i shoved.
and pulled.

every place it could go.
every way it could fit.

i forced myself through the bullshit.
and the spite.
to pure pleasure.

i watch his face.
devour me.
and i felt myself.
put it out.

as his face dripped.
with come.
i shook as i took it in.

when i tasted myself.
on his tongue.
i gave it up.

and i left it.
on the sheets.
on his fingers.
in the air.

and it was worth it.
worth the waiting.
and the hesitation.
the restraint.

and after all that questioning.
decision making.

its obvious.
no matter how.
much i give it away.

ive still got it.
and its better.
than it was before.

Monday, March 16, 2009

just do it already....

So I took some time off from sex. I needed time to recover from a broken heart, and just wasn't ready to expose my body (and emotions) to intimacy.

That part of my life, is over, and afterward I realized my favorite part of sex: the first entry.

you are naked, waiting, wanting it and then that first thrust while your muscles are so tight. You feel the force it takes to get him in you. You feel yourself wrapping around him. your mind ceases to function, words or thoughts, just fuuuuuuccccckkk.
The noises that come out you've never heard, like a dick that plugged some hole that created complex thought. you are dumb. you want it over and over and start grabbing at him and can't stop. won't stop. will not stop. just go go go. more. harder. again and again.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Never Again

So I let him cum on my face. I Recently lost my virginity and have been trying new things in this world of sex that has become my new fascination and slight nightmare. well it was horrible. I don't feel sexy I feel like I'm going to have an acne breakout and blemishes that last forever as a reminder never to let a guy cum on my face again.

I sucked the essence out of his dick.

I'm at work and all I can think about is riding him like a cowboy on a fucking bull. I want to lock my knees and hold on for dear life. I want to lace myself up in a corset that is far to small for my breast and heels way to high to walk in. He doesn't care about any of that stuff but it makes me feel like a vixen so I lace up my boots. When he looks at me I know I am the finest Women he has ever tasted. I am almost a God. He kisses me sweetly like he always does and then he aggressively pushes me on the bed. I lay down and he slaps my ass and flips me over. I love getting fucked from behind.


I make his black snake moan. When he cums his top lip rolls back and his crooked teeth stick out. I love those stupid fucking teeth. He makes me cum every time. I think my vagina tries to suck the essence out of his dick. NO, My vagina sucks the essence out of his dick. The tattoo on his chest lifts up and down as his breathing slows down. I roll over and I place my hand under my left breast in a puddle of sweat and cum. These sheets are dirty and so am I.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

I do not understand

When hanging out with someone it becomes harder and harder with each day to be honest with feelings. Becoming vulnerable is never easy and so telling someone you really do like them can be difficult, especially for me. Recently I have been running into that problem and it has been putting a damper on my current situation. However, in recent days I have finally taken the plunge and admitted my happiness, and now it is being held against me. Now that I am being honest and telling the person I like that I do indeed like them, I am no longer sexually desireable. Now I wish I could backpedal and take it all back so I can continue to enjoy myself without the awkwardness that now exists because of my honesty. I am comepletely dumbfounded that after being hassled for not being honest now my honesty is causing more of a problem.