Savoring Your Want of Me (Part IV and End)

bed boy

The rate you fuck me is excruciatingly slow.

You look up at my face and smile at my impatience.

I bang my hands on your back, but you continue your momentum.

I cry, and you catch my tears with your lips.

You whisper, “hush,” then hasten your movements.

“I want you to feel where I’ve been,”  you breathe into my ear.


“And the next day,” you say.

As you release your essence into me.

You breathe your promise to me.

To do it…




To never stop,

What we’ve begun…

Just Breathe

Yeah there’s a post or two brewing in my sparkly brain. More to come later on. It is my writing night after all.

Heard this on my latest road trip with my Meggie. Trying to remember to breathe today.

Just Breathe.

And to pray. Gotta pray.

2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.

A Writer’s Frustration

Thank you my lovely Duane for sending this to me. I sure needed the pick me up!

There is nothing more frustrating for a writer than not being able to write. I’m in so much pain I can’t even hold a pen. I’ve been this way for a month. A pinched nerve in my upper back has made even the simplest task a chore. Lifting heavy dogs at the salon has finally taken a toll on my body. It’s frustrating, because in some ways I just got this body of mine back. I don’t want anything to slow me down. I lived slow for too long.

Most of the time I look at a picture and the words come to me. Yesterday I looked at a picture and the story I wrote was shit.  All I think about now is the pain in my upper back, shooting down my arm, to my fingertips. There’s numbness and tingling up and down my arm. I tried conventional medicine. Ibuprofen and muscle relaxants. Rest, Icy Hot and a damn heating pad. Nothing worked. The pain has worsened. It’s all I think about and it’s driving me mad. I cry at the drop of a hat. Which of course is typical for me. But not because of physical pain. You know me, it’s my emotions that get to me. A dying flower could make me cry if the mood hits me right.

I have given up and gone to a chiropractor. I was uncertain of the process, but I’m willing to try anything. The first neck adjustment scared the hell out of me. I gasped and the doctor asked if I was okay. I smiled and said, of course. The next adjustment caused my entire left arm to go dead. I was petrified! The doctor then told me to flip over. While I lay on my back, he contorted my head in ways I didn’t know it could move. Finally there was release, and relief.

He kept telling me these are the same adjustments he gives his three year old. What he should have said was, don’t be a baby! I stood up and felt less pain then I had in weeks. When I got home, I iced my back. I relaxed and read. Bedtime came at 8:15pm.

The adjustments have helped. There’s pain and numbness but my shoulders don’t feel like they’re chained shut. The doctor said it seems I carry most of my stress in my back. Hmmmm, I could have told him that! There are stories I want to write and lots of things I want to say. Unfortunately they are all blocked by pain. It makes me so damn frustrated I want to cry. A LOT!

For now I will work on feeling better and reading a good book. It’s called The Gargoyle, by Andrew Davidson. Rory told me about it. Said I would identify with it. So far he’s right. As always…

I’ll leave you with a groovy new tune from the awesome, awesome band, Muse. It’s called Madness. It’s about love of course. I guess if I can’t write, I can listen to a groovy band sing about love. Plus the video has a dystopian feel, which is my favorite. Sweet dreams my sweets.