summer makes me horny.
D2 makes me horny.
my current man.
take me take me take me
rearrange me

woke up this morning
your fingers touching me
teasing me
fucking me.

merciless you are
till i shake and scream.
cum once cum twice
three times.

my current man.
my current obsession.


April 21, 2008. men, sex. 1 comment.

letters to a boy-face. trois

Dear D2,

i realize i don’t want to fall in love with you
i can not
i will not

but i guess i already have

not the sweet sugary love
the rough tough love

the wrap my legs around you
suck and bite you
kind of love

the fuck me
fuck you
dirty love is all i have for you.

April 19, 2008. dating, men, sex. Leave a comment.

it’s been too long i know.

but i’ve scrubbed off my sorrows
and i am back with more tales
of my
and loves.

bisous my beautifuls!

April 15, 2008. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

sawmill creek

it’s 3pm on a thursday
i’m drinking sauvignon blanc courtesy of my friends at Sawmill Creek.
it’s about half an ikea tumbler full, just enough to make my insides twist
my head warm and fuzzy.

I understand that with out the bad
one can not enjoy the good
I understand that with out the sense of loss
one can not understand how lucky it is to have it all
I understand that when I fall
I must get back up
But I don’t want to.
Not with out you.

Should I sit here waiting for you to come home to me?
Should I find you and touch your skin again?
Remind you of the past good and erase present bad.

The smell of you leave my sheets now.
The scent of your skin no longer on my lips.
I suppose I was expecting this…
but not the hurt that comes along with it.

Should I sit here waiting for you to come home to me?
kiss me again
love me again
touch me again
Or was last night the goodbye.
If so
sorry baby
sorry baby
know that i will miss you

January 10, 2008. dating, love, men. 1 comment.

you give me fever

i’ve got a friend.
suffering from yellow fever.
“I can’t help it!” he says.

I find ethno-fetishes a little bizarre.
what every happened to free love and being color blind.
jungle fever
yellow fever
bamboo lover

i find it a little strange that there are terms for sexual fetishes based on the color of one’s skin.
Or maybe I find it hard to believe because I have never felt that way about any one before.

leave your comments .
I’d like to know what you all think.

December 23, 2007. dating. 1 comment.

before i knew better

i have become one of those girls
that waits by the phone
hoping that he will call.

i have become one of those girls
that drinks vodka and coke
that waits by the phone
hoping that he will call.

i have become on of those girls
listening to sad love songs
that is drinks vodka and coke
that waits by the phone
hoping that he will call.

10 minutes to 11 pm
and I am waiting.
i hate the butterflies in my tummy
that flurry about when i think of him.
I hate my heart for falling for him
i hate my mind for failing to make me smarter, better and stronger.

so I have become one of those girls
waiting by the phone
hoping that he will call
hoping he will come over
and our fingers can touch again.

December 21, 2007. dating, love. 2 comments.


Tilly crawls in to my bed
and I am nervous as I wonder if she can see you in my sheets
or smell you on my pillows

She knows you well Seb
enough to sense your worry
enough to ask ‘How are things with him and you’

I can’t help but watch Tilly
counting gummy bears and flipping though my Vogue
I can tell she is watching me
looking for unfamiliar clothing
of boys unknown
looking for clues
that may lead to this relationships’ demise

She can’t read my mind
and its thoughts of D and dirty acts
She can’t hear my brain
as it whirs creating excuses and silly conversation
She can’t see my heart
ready to explode through my chest as I wait for you to walk through the door

So i cross my legs
sit on my floor
where we have spent many a night before
I smile and say
how happy i am
how lucky i am
to have you
and how lucky you are to be with me
Your ebony skin
red lip stained

December 14, 2007. C'est Moi, love, men. 1 comment.

i want you

my phone buzzes
sliding across my table.
it’s D again.
It’s been weeks, since I’ve seen him
touched him
heard from him.

I hold my breath, wanting the phone to stop.
I feel like he can see me, ignoring his call.
I sit nervous, so nervous.

Once the love was strong
Now it’s long, long gone
Cause the pain, came down like a storm
i remained holding on
Cause I want you, cause I want you
I want you, I want you

message recieved.
you’ve heard that i’ve been sick
my lungs refused to get fixed
‘I want to make you soup’ you say
‘I hope you feel better’ you say

Once the love was strong
Now it’s long, long gone
Cause the pain, came down like a storm
i remained holding on
Cause I want you, cause I want you
I want you, I want you

I lie here sick
my chest burns
my throat raw
my body heavy
but my heart

my heart is weak
my heart misses you
my heart is weak

I hate that i need you this much
I hate that i want you this much
so I lie
lie in bed
lie to Seb
lie to my self
and sleep
wanting you to disappear

December 10, 2007. love, memory, men. 1 comment.


i stir from sleep
as Seb moves beneath the sheets
and between my legs.
the perfect wake up call.

it’s been a weekend of sex.
empty gatorade bottles and condom wrappers litter my floor.
the air smells of it,
our skin tastes of salt.

get closer, get closer
lean on me now, lean on me now

I count my blessings having Him around.
1 2 3 4 … I could go on forever.

I love that I can say nothing and you know everything.
I love that you play with the tight curls of my hair.
I love that you smile when you sleep.
I love that your eyes say more that your words.
I love that you love me more than any man has.
I love that I love you more than I have loved any other man.
I hate that I do the hurtful things that I do.
But most of all I would hate if you ever found out.

We lay about my bed. Limbs tangled.
I hear him breath softly has he sleeps and my mind wanders.
I watch him smile off in his dreams.
My phone beeps
message pending

It’s D. Call me. We need to talk.

My heart sinks, and so it begins.

November 23, 2007. C'est Moi, memory, men, sex. 2 comments.

quick quick

we have to be quick.

no time for pleasantries.
no time for sweet words.

You pull up my skirt and rip at my stockings.
I tug at your belt and free you from you jeans.

I stride you, kissing you hard.
Your tongue in my mouth, our bodies pressed hard against each other.
I buck harder and harder, pull at your hair.
Your fingers dig in to my skin.

biting fucking biting fucking biting fucking

I scream soundlessly, your groans vibrate through my skin.
collapse on the floor
sweaty messy sweaty messy and wet

November 15, 2007. love, men, sex. 2 comments.

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