Creative Writing · Free Write · Healing · Personal · Prose · Reflection · Sex · Writing

On how you used to fuck me…

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It was cold out but the Sailor Jerry in my stomach kept me warm, my head was light as I felt tingling spread through me. I held onto your arm. The train passing by graffitied walls and the back of dark city buildings. The car was mostly empty and I wanted you right there. We had left the gas station bathroom to seek a better place to fuck but couldn’t find anywhere. So we sat on the train, the tension almost unbearable. I looked at your lips, your drunken smile was irresistible and I imagined your body all over mine. There was a sensation pulsing between my legs and I felt moisture run over the edge of my panties. I could see your rock hard cock through your pants.


There was barely a block between the train station and my home. We stopped every few feet to kiss each other. Hands all over. I remember you grabbing my face to bring me up toward you. We stumbled in through the front door. Clothes were thrown about the living room and you lifted me up to the kitchen counter. Your thick fingers slipped inside my pussy and your mouth moved over my neck. I thought I never wanted it to stop and I told you to take me to my bed. You threw me down, pushed my legs apart  and then pulled me to the edge. “Fuck me.” I looked up at  and grabbed your hips to guide you into me. Your hands were tangled in my hair as you pressed against me over and over again. Skin to skin. I held onto your biceps. You turned me over and around. My ass bounced against your body and I wondered if you liked that. You kissed my back and called me beautiful. Your hands grasped my breasts as we pushed between each other. You fucked me hard, so hard and your cock fit perfectly inside of me. Tight and all the way through. Time passed by and I wondered if I was even still alive. I was no longer myself. I was a being unrecognizable. You looked me right in the eyes and moaned on how good it felt to be inside of me. I begged you to fuck me harder and faster. I screamed and wrapped my arms around you. Tears ran down my cheeks. You asked if I was okay and I told you “please don’t stop.”


Hours passed or perhaps an entire lifetime. The light from the street lamp peeked through the space in the blinds. The universe our only witness. I pushed you harder and said “Come inside me.” I could feel you throbbing as your warm fluid filled me. We collapsed around each other. Our arteries pulsated on various spots within our bodies and I could not feel the difference between our flesh. I was you and we were something no one else could ever be.


I think about these memories. I wonder if any man could ever fuck me the same. Fuck me until I forget. Fuck me until the skin peels off my back. I wonder at the intensity and how we could not keep ourselves off each other. And I remember at the end how you wouldn’t let me touch you. How you grabbed my hands and threw them off your chest as I begged you to still love me. To not leave me alone. I wanted it again and again. Masochistic is what they called me. I think I am still looking for that in other people. Nice guys don’t have it in them and perhaps neither do I. 

Broken Up · Creative Writing · Depression · Healing · I Miss You · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Sadness · Writing

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I am still in love with you.

Most days.

Even when I hate you and I know we are no good for each other.

I go only short amounts of time before you pass through my thoughts again.

My heart breaks every time I read your words.

I want to write back.

I would send you a thousand lines of the love I have for you… but I know your time is fleeting.

And I spend countless days in recovery.

I want to see you and hold your hand.

I want to walk in the rain and shoot shotguns at the night sky wearing nothing but the bad attitude that clings to people like me and you.

But I know I can not have my heart broken again and I can’t help but think you may be my broken heart.

I have you always.

Pulsating in the cavern of my chest.

I have felt you a thousand years and back.

Do you feel me too?

I have always wondered.

Am I a play thing, a fantasy, a destiny?

I cry out at night.

I wake up and you are still not beside me.

My heart lingers of that place where maybe you once love me.

I walk away from you, a trail of crumbs to my heart.

Creative Writing · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Reflection · Relationships · Writing

Two Years

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I could talk about how on this day two years ago you broke me. How a piece of me was cut out, burned and brushed away.


I could recollect on leaning on that raw wooden post, a cigarette in hand but I won’t.


I will not talk about how you left me at my most vulnerable moment. Or how I yearned for any morsel of your affection to be told, “I never loved you.”


Seven years and a thousand lifetimes passed as you lived with the one you did not love.


Still, we will not remember such things.


Even on tonight when I sung along to the music that defined us, you and I. How we ran on punk rock, drunken nights, and playing lovebirds in the desert. The music and the wind runs through it.


This dead salty memory.


No, today I will recall how these things did not and could not defeat me.


How the darkness of one defining moment could not stop the sun’s rising.


Two years and I run from you like the horse in that field. The grass below my feet and the future a bold blue sky.


And even on tonight when I vow not to speak of you, I can not help but miss your presence. In the dark desert sands the music plays on.


Without you. 

Free Write · Personal · Sleepy · Writing

I saw your face and I cant help but cry

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All I want is for you to be okay, to be better.

To be anything other than broken.

But I know I can not fix you.

I can not try to put you back together while I am falling into pieces.


Please understand I want to, oh how desperately I want to hold you and listen to music and feed you.

I want to laugh.

I want to love you….but I just can’t.


If you could understand the restraint it takes for me.

To go one day then one more..

They don’t have AA for person addicts.


And I wonder how much more you could possibly break me. Surely there is another piece you could take from everything I have worked so hard to build.


I loved you and you told me you were not in love with me.

You left me for another woman and now you want me again.


What happens when you change your mind…again?

My heart is not a pair of socks or a hairstyle. You can’t just throw me out or clip me away when you feel the need. It’s not fucking fair. Or right.


It’s not about hating you, I could never do that.

It’s not about hurting you or seeking revenge.

It’s about loving myself, something I neglected to do and can not seem to manage to do in your presence. 

Creative Writing · Free Write · Healing · I Miss You · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Pondering · Reflection · Relationships · Sleepy · Writing

I Always Will

I loved you more than any other chosen person in my life.

I still do.

I still miss so many pieces of you.


Sometimes I hear or see something that only you would get.

And I hear your voice echoing in my mind.

I hear your laugh next to me.

It is almost like you are here again.

And all the terrible things you did never happened.

Other times I feel lonely because I know there are

Aspects of this life, of this world that only you and I could ever remember and find special.

There are so many generic things in this world.

Repeats and reproductions.

But you are not one of them, not even close.


You are more special and beautiful to me than words can ever describe.

Trust me, I have tried over and over again for close to a decade.


My only wish after all this time, is that you could somehow see what I could.

Oh how I tred for all these years to give you what will take a lifetime to discover.

I wanted it now and that was selfish of me.

I know that.

But still, I miss you.


I wish everyday that we could have been, should have been…but I am slowly letting that go because I have to for my own sanity.


Please know that when I sit alone at night, wrapped in a blanket or looking up at the stars on a warm summer night that I remember you.


Not the ugly.

Not the lies.

Not the addictions.


I remember the soul I fell in love with.

That person exists.

The goodness you fear and the struggles you tried to hide.

I remember your excitement and your eyes and your pain.

I remember that I loved you purely.


Everyday since the beginning of time and into our next lives, a piece of me will always be waiting for you.

I will love you always, even when I know I must do it from afar  

Creative Writing · Free Write · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Relationships · Writing

Nothing Will Ever Change

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I do believe a part of me will always love you. It is something I did not want to admit and at times I wish this was not true.


I loved you into the depths of the darkest moments, into sickness and hell and then back again.


One can not pretend that the burns and scars i picked up along the way never existed. I see remnants of them when I look in the mirror and when I open the door into the sunlight.


It was in the early mornings that I found you.

And on late nights you left me.

Searching in circles, and I can not find the key.


I walked you drunk and stumbling into your bed again. In a foreign house. In an empty room you had to survive.


I kissed you goodbye and I meant it.