Dear God

       Eat me, the phrase lives in my head with every touch and every glimpse of your lips. Devour me my mind, my body, my soul until you have no choice but to pour into me. The sentence repeats like a consistent loop.       Barely a prayer. Barely a confession.     I want to be fully felt, appreciated and loved. Touch my body yes but understand my thoughts, my pauses, the parts of me that stay unspoken, because I already known how easily they can be misunderstood.     There is something undeniably sexy about wanting to be consumed, wanting to both trigger the beast and tame it. on the other hand, there is something quietly holy about wanting to be held by it too without being owned by it.         I don't want promises. I don't want permanence.      I want a presence that doesn't flinch.     Eat me, in the way attraction pulls at the skin. Devour me, in the way yearning reaches for t...

       Addicted to love... The only way to describe it, the closeness, the intensity, the what if, the courting, loving unconditionally and freely even if it breaks me.       I expect it to break me.       Addicted to your touch your voice, your presence. The feel of you beneath me. I want more, crave more, Need more. Even if it never comes from you, somehow, I still want you.       Am I my own problem?       I wish I could see myself through your eyes, I wish I knew how you think about me... Would It give me the closure I need to get out of my head? Or would it keep me there?     I don't know if I want to know the answer to that... But should I? Why am I still dreaming, I should've woken up by now. I should've been pushed away by now... Why won't I?       Am I broken?     Is it just the way you fuck me? Am I addicted to the orgasm? The way we seem ...

       I don’t want my dreams to stay dreams anymore.  I want the luxury, the traveling, the love without limits , and the freedom to be fully myself.       Not just “dreams.” I want it in real life.      I picture being on a beach with my daughter, drinking mocktails, laughing, and feeling safe enough to relax. I want moments like that without stress sitting in the back of my mind.       I want the beauty, the body, and the happiness that come from freedom and financial security — the kind that lets you live how you want, not how you’re forced to.      And honestly? I don’t care if that makes me a gold digger. Call it whatever you want.      I want flowers just because. I want gifts just because. I want a lifestyle that matches my femininity — and softness that respects everything I survived.   I’m done accepting breadcrumbs from people who don’t meet me wh...

     How far are you willing to go?  Do you want this? Do you want me —with all my damage, my baggage?  How long will you stay? Am I enough for you? Will I ever be enough?  These questions loop endlessly, tightening around my chest until it’s suffocating.       But answer me this — how far?      Will you do what it takes to repair what you broke, or is the task just too much? It always seems too much.  How do you break something, then grow frustrated at how long it takes to repair it?      Why were you so careless in the first place?      When glass shatters, expect to get cut. Expect it to take time. And if you haven’t realized it yet — expect to learn a new craft.  Because glass pieced together with super glue will never last.  No — you have to learn how to weld , how to reshape glass.       And that requires emotional intelligence.     ...

       Why am I just now building a solid interpretation to the dance shown in the music... It's not a mind blowing one, but the video starts with a male and a female.      The female instinctively fights the male even when he isn't fighting back even when he is trying to soften his approach and get close, At one point she leaves the cage and watches him and he even leans out reaching for her, he could CHOOSE to walk out to react to his anger physically but he doesn't, instead he crumbles; he gives up.       It is only then that she runs forward and into his arms trusting him, learning him, studying him, she knows they are meant to be more than in a cage meant to be more then fighting, she tries to lead him out the cage but he refuses, he can leave but he won't, he watches and clings to her but doesn't do more then watch as she struggles to pull him out, both stuck in the loop.       It's almost like a love story...

Not a typical blog but I wanted to write a poem. Nevermore. Never shall this feeling of regret settle into my spirit. Never shall I cry out like a warrior in battle. Screaming because my spirit will collapse if I cry. Never shall I expect any one to love me. Never shall I expect any one to treat me well. I will do it for myself. Never will I love freely, openly, unconditionally. Never will I let people into my inner world. I will not be reduced to their imagine of me. I will rise above it. I will become the villain since no one will ever be my hero. If I have to save myself so, be it. Nevermore will I believe in fairytales.  because they are imaginary. Fictious and full of lies. Never more shall I reduce my frequency. and never more shall I open the door to my softness, my care and my devotion. It will be reserved for myself my child and the  higher energies... Nevermore.... 𖤐 ✦ 𖠷 ✦ 𖤐

I guess I am writing today in hopes of manifesting… I am not going to yearn for love like I normally would've. I won’t even crave the affection from another, or the validation. What I want to manifest is self-love. The same unconditional, devoted love I have given to others, be poured into myself tenfold. I want to have the luxury and the freedom to be financially independent and sexually confident. That I can pursue the things my heart desires and no longer live paycheck to paycheck. I want to travel around the world— freely and consistently. I want men to pour into me financially. They cannot help themselves; from the richest to the mediocre. I want men with stability to see me as a prize, something to earn, to win. The fight for my attention. I want to get flowers just because. Just because I am beautiful. Just because I exist. I want my existence to be a spell of abundance. When people see me, money flows. When people want me, confidence grows. When they envy me, my be...

       I have reached the point of no return. yes, it is mostly if not entirely my fault. I wasn't taught what healthy looks like in any shape or form. I wasn't taught what it feels like to be loved without pain. and fall very easily for masked safety. red flags only look pink to me until it hurts and because of all of this and much more I have decided I am done trying with love.       I can't trust my choices much less who I choose at this point I believe I will only have a lasting marriage with someone I never fall in love with simply because If I love him that just tells me he is actually not a good person. And no this isn't a good guy vs bad guy commentary.       I truly believe my character flaw is falling for the villain.       I am almost always guaranteed a heartbreak after I fall, and I am reaching the age where it became a fleeting notion to even fall in love. with that and much more I can say I am...