Wake me up from this wicked dream with a kiss.
Grab me,
And drag me
To the other side of the bed.
Fuck me until I’m weak,
Love me until I’m sick.
Cover me in soft, fresh linens
And bring me breakfast in bed.
My body is yours to pull and twist.
Give me a child so I can end this everlasting nightmare
and create peace within me.
My darling, I am your rag doll
And I’d do anything to please you.
For me, the lines between love and obsession has always been blurred. I never understood the difference until my first romantic encounter. The first boy I’ve ever been obsessed with was named Ronald. He was a well known boy in at my high school. He spotted me, he asked one of my friends for my number and the rest is history. He’s the first boy I had created feelings for and he’s the first boy to ever betray me. The full history of our relationship is long and shows how idoitic and naïve I was. I imagined having kids with him, going to the same college as him, I revolved my entire future around him.
Luckily, obsession’s cloak began to fall and I realized that he was only an obsession. It came to me, when his face was between my thighs, that I never actually liked him. I was just obsessed with who he could be, who I wanted him to be. The feelings I thought I had for him were created by me, in my mind, to hide my obsession. That’s when disgust came in. One interesting thing about obsession is its relation to disgust. I remember looking down at Ronald during the act. His tongue was becoming well acquainted with my left labia and he seemed to be enjoying himself. But I wasn’t enjoying it at all. My idealized version of him had worn off and he was just a plain, useless boy. He was never special, I just wanted him to be in my head.
I love love.
Love is a key aspect of my horrific being.
I grew up learning my unlimited amount of love should be saved.
It is a sacred gift.
However,
The unlimited amount of stored love can become overwhelming.
It leads to my common feelings of loneliness and hopelessness.
So,
I just give it out.
I give it out romantically by sharing heartfelt kisses with my lovers.
I give it out platonically by listening, admiring and cheering those I allow close.
I give it out internally by listening to my spirit and mind the first time.
I give it out exteriorly by showing kindness and love to the things around me,
Whether I want to or not.
Don’t be fooled,
I am still a deeply disturbed woman,
But my kindness and love is a powerful, maternal force within me.
The world is still a cruel, heartless place,
But love and the possibility of love makes it worth living.
Baby.
You’re my baby, my darling, my lover.
My body aches for you,
My bed feels empty and cold without you.
My soft interior peaks out only for you.
You are my partner,
Nobody compares to you.
I worship you as if you were a God,
My God.
My body was made for you
To kiss,
To hold,
To grab,
To bend.
I am in my truest form
When I am with you,
My baby.
Today, I decided to try making sugar cookies.
I’ve never made them before,
But I was craving the taste.
The first bite felt surreal.
I felt like I was in a dream,
A familiar dream.
The second bite felt refreshing.
I was transported back to that familiar dream,
With my beautiful husband and my sweet baby.
The third bite felt loving.
My husband’s lips were on my neck
While my devilish baby played with strands of my hair.
The fourth bite felt orgasmic.
My husband’s hunger and my baby’s beauty overwhelmed me.
I felt whole again.
The final bite felt mournful
I knew I would have to say goodbye,
So I gave my husband and my baby a heartfelt kiss.
As the sweet treat fades from my deprived tongue,
I realize I am
Once again
Alone.
And it was once again,
A near dream of a distant reality.
My heart is too delicate and full to be abused.
It is a soft child, new to the harshness of this disgusting world.
She’s still innocent.
I can’t stop her from loving and caring for useless men
Who can’t see her worth and potential.
Who don’t appreciate the pureness of her love.
But,
She can’t help it.
She thrives and continues to seek the man she will love
And marry until her last breath.
But,
My heart still ponders a simple question.
What’s the point of giving my all,
my bottomless being,
to a man who would only give me half?
You said you didn’t love me.
You said you had no ill feelings for me,
But that you
Didn’t
Love
Me.
I just couldn’t understand the idea of you not loving
me
When I’ve loved you my entire life
And beyond.
Now, I’m stand
In your kitchen
With your beating heart
In my hands.
Your body lies still on the clean tiles.
I give your heart a squeeze
As I admire the sweet gift you have given me.
I’m sorry, my love.
I just couldn’t
Take
The
Rejection.
I hope you can love me
Now
That I have your heart
In my loving hands.
I thought it was impossible to meet a man
As deranged and lost in this world as I am.
One who has no will to live and only lives
To raise hell amongst the world.
One who looks at me as if I’m god
And Satan.
One who is able to tame
My inner wrath and hatred.
One who makes this horrible world
Worth living, even for a few more years.
From the second I met him,
I knew he was made for me,
And only me.
Love is not that simple.
Love in not that simple to me.
Other people experience it as
Something fresh, pleasant and joyful.
I experience it as
a rebirth, dreading and overall painful.
Love,
For me,
Turns into obsession.
Turns into wanting to be apart of your physical being.
Turns into a burning pain due to how much I crave and desire.
Love,
For me,
Is sickening.
My daily functions depend on your admiration of me.
My mind, body and soul depends on your overall happiness.
Love,
For me,
Becomes my entire identity.
I am not me if I don’t have or possess you.
I am meaningless without love.
Is this healthy?
No, it isn’t.
But it’s the only way I thrive within my being.
What must I do for your love?
What must I do for you to be mine?
You are the embodiment of perfection and glory.
The sight of you makes my knees weak
And my power, my ego, disappear.
Your boyish appearance and naïve aura
Makes you irresistible and I want to
Corrupt you,
Damage you,
A man of twenty, but you’re so pure,
So new, to this harsh world.
I was made
For you.
I will write for you until my fingers bleed.
I will further damage this world for you.
I will give you my beating heart for your own.
I will crawl on my hands and knees if you asked.
I will only exist for your own happiness and pleasure.
The Paramour 