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.
I am unforgettable.
I am one of one.
When you leave me,
You will always look for me.
You will look into their eyes
And try to pull together fragments of me.
Fragments of my love,
Fragments of my voice,
Fragments of my heart.
But all you will find
Is the empty void I have left you with.
And I hope that ruins you.
He haunts me.
The idea of him, of us, tortures my daily life.
I think about him when the morning light hits my eyes.
I feel him when my bed is empty.
I see him all over my apartment, even if he’s miles away.
It’s killing me because I don’t have him.
I don’t have him in my embrace and it is burning me alive.
I await for a call, a text, every day like a dog waiting for their own to come back from a deadly war.
You are so merged into my life
That I forget I even have one.
Your absent touch eats alive at my skin and it burns.
I want to rip away parts of me that are infected by your presence.
I want to hug you and carve my name into your flesh, as you do mine.
I want to scream and curse you for making me this way,
This desperate and this inhumane.
I want to swallow you whole so you can reside within me for eternity and beyond.
I want this haunting to end and for us to finally become one.
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.
Fuck,
I don’t know what I wanna do.
I want to love,
I want to cry,
I want to bleed.
I want to wear silk dresses
And enjoy the luxuries of life.
I want to cut the throats of those who have hurt me,
And watch them as they beg, pled for forgiveness.
I want to cut up fresh fruit and hand feed it to my lover.
I want to write and live in my delusional, sick thoughts.
I don’t want to work,
I don’t want to interact with other people;
I don’t want to cry unless it benefits my works.
I want to live my life as an artist
Without all the unnecessary stress and suffering of living a human life.
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?
I had a dream,
A dream where I was your wife.
Where your hands were on my waist
And my spine was bent
In your favorite position.
Your hands are glued to my throat
While I try not to scream.
I had a dream,
A dream where you were comforting me.
Where your hands caressed my hair
And my eyes filled with tears
That eventually slide down my face.
Your mouth is whispering sweet sounds
While I am spiraling out of control.
I had a dream,
A dream where you were killing me.
Where your favorite blade pushed through my organs
And my body was motionless
And weak to your attack.
Your body locked over me
While I slowly lost consciousness.
And it was the best dream
I’ve ever had.
The Paramour 