Dream of Me

Dream of me

Can I ask, just this once ? 

Will it be dreams of soft caress ?  Or hard pleasure ? 

What form do I take in your nocturnal slumber ?  

Am I a damsel ?  Awaiting rescue ?  

A feral, biting and scratching beast to be tamed ?  

A pretty trinket, coveted and placed on a shelf ?  

That low moan,  that rumbles your chest, when you find me in your dreams,  is it the same?

Do your hands seek for me?  

Can you taste my lips? 

How solid is my form against your body?  

Can you feel tangled limbs and damp skin against yours? 

The crooked way your smile curves when I whisper to you my need. 

If I watched you sleep would it appear? 

Do you bind me? 

Or let yourself go to the mercy of my wandering fancy?

My hips arching up to met you, my mouth meeting yours with bruising force?

Or breathless gentle touches,  meant to tease and taunt and please?  

Tell me, and I will breath life into your fantasy, be your waking dream. 

Malfunction

I am not crying,  my eyes have just sprung a leak. 

Life is not a Malfunction * Short Circuit 

You can have this to examine, long suffering readers. 

I do too much.  I let the ones that I love,  the same ones who cross the boundaries I set up over and over again,  I let them hurt me. I know going in,  it’s going to sting like a mother fucker.  

And still,  I bow my head and square my shoulders and trudge head first in. 

This one is aching, deep. I never expected happy ever after, but I did become to expect the rock solid consistancy of the chaos I knew to continue. 

I am disassembling a life. Their life together.  

Taking down pictures,  dividing emotional property, just like who gets what couch and what TV belongs to who. Leaving half of my loyalty with each. 

Slammed right into the middle of it again.  I am not a child anymore.  It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt like just like I am a little girl.  

I keep saying that they need to be fair to one another.  

Why do I expect this when the last 30 plus years has been one unkindness after another injustice?  

What delusion am I in? It’s laughable,  really.  

What did I really expect?  

Not what I got. 

Pawn shops,  lies, 5$ crack Whores and stolen property.  

After all this… I don’t want to be the adult in their relationship anymore.  

For my sanity I am letting go.  Call me a horrible daughter again… it’s okay. 

 It hurts but not as bad as the rest of this. 

I am a good person. I am a daughter,  a mother, and wife, I am a loving human.  I am the fixer,  an enabler, I am a scapegoat.  

I am giving up the last 3 titles, I am not doing so easily.  My bad habits are fighting the change tooth and nail. It feels like it’s pulling apart that scared little girl.  She finds comfort in the steady stream of the emotional abuse.  Examine that. 

It’s life, imperfections and flaws and pain and past and unresolved demons.  And I am crying.  But over what and for who? 

Fuck if I know.