I’m The Mother To A Wonderful 7 Week Old, And At Times I Get Sad Because I Don’t Know What He Wants
I’m the mother to a wonderful 7 week old, and at times I get sad because I don’t know what he wants when he’s crying and I’ve done everything possible for him, and I come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just me.
I’m very calm with him, I love him, I smile sweetly at him, I say to him that I understand that there’s a divide between us and I wish I could help him more as I kiss his chubby cheeks. And when he calms down, if he calms down, I hug him close until he falls asleep, and I but him down in his bassinet. I stare at him in such awe that I’m in love with this little creature, that when I sit down and focus on my breath, I realize that I’m dying a little on the inside.
My child breaks me everyday, but when he looks at me and focuses on me, I pick myself up again and start all over.
I realize I’m very hard on myself, but with my history, I gravitate towards it because it’s my punishment. I’ll admit that I love my child more than myself, that I care about him more than myself, but I’ll keep going because he needs me, and I need him.
I need him.
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For when she drew her last breath, giving up her soul, too tired to run anymore, he was there, taking her away, forever his, mind, body, and soul. He had made her.
Lover
Lover Skin upon skin lies beautiful pleasure, To be devoured and released with ones breath. Cries and pleas whispered in sensitive ears, As the Heart explodes in pleasure. The pleasure is in the beauty of passion As it rolls off the writhing body. The chest rises and falls with every gasp, As the heart dies a little death. But it still trembles from head to toe. Lover stares down at the golden beauty, Smiling with pleasure and total hunger. A kiss is a just a kiss, and a Sigh is just a sigh as time goes on. Skin upon skin lies beautiful exstasy, As love comes together in passion.
A religious experience of purple
My Girl
She sat emotionless in the bed. The people around her were Vultures, although she was Okay with that, and didn't dread.
Deadly
She sat emotionless in the white room, As the vultures with the cure Preyed upon her between her legs. Eyes closed, she imagined doom.
Deadly
She sat in a bright room; mind twirling. There were others like her in That bright room, recovering, knowing Well their souls were swirling.
Deadly
She sat in the car; a shell. Watching the world pass by She thought to herself, When she would be going to Hell.
Deadly.
Sinner.
No Regrets.
One of the movies I love. It would’ve been perfect if Mickey Rooney wasn’t the “Japanese” landlord. How embarrassing and racist.
There was once a very lovely, very frightened girl. She Lived alone except for a nameless cat.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) // dir. Blake Edwards
I do what I want...
I mean, if that's ok with you.
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