hoosakitty

Your kisses, like fire, burning where they touch
Your fingers the kindling, spreading the flame along my skin
And i am consumed by your using, every particle devoured…
Every breath my last


i've discovered something this weekend about my nature...about His hold on me...about this rapturous disaster that fills me again and again, sating this god-forsaken hunger with the sweetened bliss only He can give.

i watched moths come to the candle in ...

Can you count tears? Can you catch them, like diamonds, and put a name to each one? Lay them out on the floor, where you fell in grief, and order them in straight lines…trying to make some sense of the pain? Is it possible to contain them in a velvet bag like jewels, and take them to the one they were spilt for…trying to buy back their love?

Or do you just let them soak into the earth…to disappear with your very heart…

was sitting around missing my Sir, and began reading a recent note he sent me...how he considered me to be a "good girl", and everything that term meant to him. this is part of that note:



Good girls are intelligent and can be witty, they are interesting to talk with and like to smile and laugh. Their intelligence and wit allows them to be cheeky and, sometimes, to get away with it. Good girls are feminine because they like being women.
Good girls are ...

within you i lose myself…
without you i find myself
wanting to be lost again.

~unknown


Lost…what an appropriate term…i am so completely lost in you.

First, i lost my focus…ok, i could deal with that…wanting you every second was kind of exciting.

Next, i lost my heart…wow, didn’t expect that...wasn’t looking for it…how the hell did that happen ?

Then there went my mind…not so good that, i might need ...

Here is your wish…your bitter cup. The revenge is sweet on your tongue, i’m certain, but your heart will remain as cold as mine. It is something we share now…we are sisters in this detestable family, and through our blood courses lies. I will bear your joyless laughter… but you will not have the benefit of my tears…those are mine to be wept and spilled into the inner recesses of my soul, not to be wasted on painted cheeks that were caressed only this morning by deceitful lips.

Drink…sister…my ...