Motive

“I have never had a desire to just fuck you,” he whispered. “It was always my intention to own and submit you under a beautifully sadistic pleasure, which would be all you'll ever need...”

Luminosity

the afterglow that he radiates is unlike anything she has ever felt. she is afraid of basking in such warmth and being incapable of finding light elsewhere.

Entropy

He liked it when she was innocent. But when she was wicked...FUCK. 

ignition

In a near voiceless whisper
I could feel his words
tiptoe through my ears,
landing delicately
on my eardrums.
His hushed erotica
was emotionally dangerous,
both to him and myself.

Standard

"I am intimidated by the fear of being average." She said one day. He laughed. "You? You may be many things, but fucking average is not one of them."

"Yeah, but I can’t always be remarkable." She insisted. "What if you wake up one day and decide you are bored?"

He took her hands and pressed them to his lips. "Baby, the only thing I will be deciding when I wake up is whether I should kiss you or let you sleep a little longer. “And,” he added with a grin, "you know I will never be able to resist you."

constant in the chaos

your laughter rolls in like a hurricane. i now understand why people find a thrill in chasing storms.

you’re strong like an earthquake. i can see it in the muscles of your neck as you tilt your head back when i slide my lips around you or in how your jaw tightens before you moan my name.

your thoughts never cease. it’s amazing how much you know about the theories of philosophers who were much less optimistic about our fate than you are.

your heart beat is the only thing about you that is ordinary, a flashing red stop light that slows me down to show me the importance of your existence, yet it is still superior to any other pulse i’ve ever had the opportunity to listen to.  

control

He’s watched her, and it makes him sad. Because greatness is about vision. And she has made herself blind to everything but what her eyes can see.

Duration

Time moves with or without you. It's up to you how you use it. It's up to you how you let people affect how you use it.

High Key

Redundant kisses and mild confessions. Replayed, we get caught up in the moment. The here and now, but there’s nothing like the next, the new. The inner termoil is just a facade, as gratification is painted as selfishness.

Regions

Isn’t it strange how we humans have a way of missing what was never ours?

It’s like the vacant space inside of us could be filled with them.

We think we catch their voice in the crowds, when they’re simply echoing inside of our brains.

What’s that word?

Pareidolia

supply & demand

They asked me for drugs,
so I told them about her smile.

Six Words

6 words from the mouth of a man. “I love the sounds she makes...”

The Hunt

“I’m never satisfied. You’ve fed this wolf too well,” she said. “I barely fit this sheep’s clothing now. Maybe I need to hunt again. Yes, the hunt will sate the other side of me...”

5 a.m.

Coffee is the perfume my house puts on at 5 a.m. when the sun is still hiding...

The Chase

He stood, undoing the buttons of his shirt. 

“Ten seconds,” he said. 

She looked confused. She had expected other words to come out of his mouth like undress or come here. 

“What?” Maybe she had misread the tension in the room. She lowered her gaze to the bulge in his pants.

She hadn’t. 

“You have ten seconds to hide. Then I will seek you out.”

“Your fantasy is hide and seek?” she asked. 

“No. My fantasy is the chase. I am going to hunt you and when I find you, I will bury myself so far inside you, the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.” 

That seemed fair. 

Tension

“So what are you saying?” she asked. 

He sighed, and brushed his finger along her cheek. 

“Darling, I would burn this world for you...”

infiniteness

Forever trapped between the Romantic era poet vibe where I stand in withering nature and cry over the beautiful philosophical messages in the river while drunk on wine and the Victorian era poet vibe where I sit in my candlelit chamber at midnight with a raven tapping on my window, thinking of the darkness and death and nothing more.

lost and lovely

going into a second hand bookstore and seeing the worn out paperback you’ve been trying to find for months and finding an odd bookmark inside the musty pages feels like fucking divine providence....

ode to autumn

illegible handwriting, coffee rings on notebooks, putting gloves on only to take them off again, sixteen candles (1984), walking outside when it’s not raining enough for an umbrella but just enough to fog up your glasses, sound of crows in the distance, leaves that aren’t quite crunchy, deadlines, pen smudges, leaving work early only to find out its dark outside, church bells, cinnamon, cold noses, swaying trees, full moons, cuffed sleeves, silence... 

93 days

If you are tired of this world,
Hold my hand, sit next to me.
Pour your heart out like a flooding river.
Darling, I am not afraid of crashing seas.

side-step

the longer realizations are avoided, the harder they pound through your chest once they finally strike.

Confessions #151

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered in between kisses. “You’re on my mind even when you aren’t. It’s the craziest thing. I am so overwhelmed and blown away by what I feel inside for you, that all I can do is just give in. I’m not used to being this vulnerable. I’m not used to giving this much of myself to anyone- ever. I’m usually in control, and I’m not, and that’s fucking terrifying to me.”

The honesty in his voice was so moving, fucking powerful.

I inched my body closer towards him, and his eyes were pleading in their beautiful ocean blue beauty. I touched his soft face and said, “Baby, this was the truth I’d spent my entire life hungering for. Vulnerability is absolutely beautiful. And when someone opens up and you can just feel their heart spilling into their words, there’s something special about that, you just let it envelop you completely.”

unreserved

She was enchanting with that tenth-rate kind of charm you can’t help being tempted by, which people feel ashamed of being tempted by, and which he shamelessly- in everyone’s earshot – declared himself tempted by...

witchcraft

I could feel the energy building silently between us as we stood in that room, a kind of pleasurable tension, an expectancy, as if it would’ve taken only the slightest move for something to explode.

There was something exciting about it, and dangerous too.

revelation

The first day I met you your eyes told stories before you ever spoke a word, and those words told my soul that it had finally found a home.

Radiance

I’ve heard them say that wild women are an unexplainable spark of life. They ooze freedom and seek awareness, they belong to nobody but themselves yet give a piece of who they are to everyone they meet.

If you are lucky enough to ever meet one in this lifetime, hold on to her. She’ll allow you into her chaos, but she’ll also show you her magic.

explosive

Mythology 
Biology
Psychology
Anthropology
Empty sky
Endless sea
Awakening to 
the same old 
questions
who or what 
the fuck are we?

burden

There are legacies mixed into our blood, old contracts written in a hand only partially similar to our own.

Generational curses.

We are under no obligation to live in the houses that our fathers built. It’s ok, take a lighter to it’s walls, watch it burn to the ground.

Partial

You don’t have to be at the ocean to drown. You don’t have to be near water at all. Thoughts alone are sometimes enough to drown you...

—We are our own worst enemies.

Confessions

“Mine,” he whispers. 

“Yours,” she breathes. 

divinity

he fucks me like a God. there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared me for him.

his hand delivers communion around my throat while i spare no effort to resist, and his lips whisper the sweetest hymns into my ear as he gently slides inside of me.

he confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and, oh how I put him straight onto his knees. as he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, i wonder if he knows that his energy coursing through my veins, allows my heart to continue to beat... 

faultless

Your heart beats in my lower spine like a truthful lullaby, while I mark you with smudges of lust. And yet, this desire for temptation, this need to open the eyes of innocence, it’s what the monsters gave me. It’s what I drank the obsidian river for.

We are only human.

So let twisted tongues betray us if they must. We are in Eden, tantalized by eternal life, and oh how our blurred vision is so crystal clear...