I own my death

You forget...

I've worn that noose many times and the trap door has dropped open and my neck hasn't snapped. I own this death and you cannot take my life from me.

From the child left to die 

to the teen left to starve

 The adult driven mad 
and the mother who lost hope...

Death is a frequent visitor who has yet to stay. I won't allow it. Not yet. 

Better as a daydream

So I can't get him out of my head. It's not even in my head...it's my whole body remembering

every sound, smell, taste and beautiful sensation...

I need to take this less literal and more imaginative. He can only be as real as I let him be.

Fantasies last longer. So let him be a dream.

Don't get attached.

The boundaries were clearly set.

But even removing all the physical pleasure I still find myself emotionally tied. Urge to have contact, concern...and almost a need to see him happy. And hear it in the words he sends

I've done the math like I have with so many other things and I am a negative in the figures that make up his life's calculation.

When he figures it out I'll accept my fate but for now let the numbers play out in this wonderful calculation.

countdown begins

May 19th, May 19th, May 19th...it approaches. 

A pinnacle moment in the direction of my little family. Terrified. To be honest...not confident.

Well I have hope. Wonderful things have happened in the past just have to work harder to achieve them. 

In seven days I'll know if there is truly a light at the end of the tunnel. A happily ever after.

Man of Light

Sometimes we have to do things for our own reasons 
                   just to silence the voices when they're screaming....


It's an unpredictable plot twist. The main character side steps her own story line. The pages are turning but the white out is in hand. Maybe this chapter won't make the book? Who would believe it?

I've found solace in another who has a beautiful soul. I want to dive into his head and know what's that like. Does it bring him peace? Is it everything I thought it would be? Not wanting to be the scientist and he my guinea pig I question the health in such a relationship. A friendship. I've found compatibility in those who have fallen into the dark but what of this man who stands in the light? A friend forever? A passing hype? Unable to identify my emotions correctly I passed through the boundaries that'll effect any ability to have real depth to our friendship. A selfish act. But it occurred to me suddenly that this could all be a myth and only meant to be a passing fancy. That I was written  into his story. A small roll with the true stories protagonist. 

But oh how the senses dance madly at his presence and for his words. He taste like ambrosia laced grapes, feels like fine leather, looks like a dream I once had and sounds like pleasant memories that make you smile. How I could fall deeply in adoration for such a man. If my character was from another story than my own. 

Another time, another world...or so they say.

I drank the kool-aid. Did what so many women do. Demoralize acts of pleasure just in hopes to make it to the next chapter. Make my character worth keeping. Or maybe to take advantage of what little time we have in eachother's stories.