I sit Here in a plume of smoke Waiting for the sensation of nothing and everything at the same time Waiting for something to reach me Somewhere far away Most times it comes I get scared and turn away Trying not to listen, to not feel. Why do I write Who will listen Who would want to One day I will post One day I won’t be afraid to be raw

Ever. It’s not a tool at your disposal. It’s not a burden you have to carry. They are not your stories to share, your battles to brave or your obstacles overcame. They are my life. When you think you’re bringing awareness by saying my brother has …. my mother suffers…

I stand and stare at the structure of your face, the curve in your pants. I have to physically hold myself back from sitting on your lap, ripping your clothes off like a savage beast. I don’t need to imagine you inside me, I feel it. It doesn’t happen often but when I want you, I need you. I can feel my panties dampen with the desire, as my heart quickens its beat. In a room full of destruction and disarray all I can see is you pushing me over and thrusting yourself inside of me. The thought is almost enough to make me cum.