Friday, November 8, 2013

Ten Months in a Nutshell

For 10 months you were a mistake,
and I stayed with you,
My excuse is that some days we have to take risks to know if there are consequences.

If I were smarter I would have seen the end, but I’ve never been a quitter and that persistence showed me who you really were.

You were a man who could use my body for his own release, while telling me you loved me, then ask leave to right after.
                              But that wasn’t the only time you ended a moment with me for your own needs.
I was vulnerable and confessing my uneasiness with my last check-up, and before you could register feeling any sympathy, you asked to leave again.

               Perhaps, it was the rejection that drew me to you, like a moth to flames.
This feeling of inadequacy was foreign and maybe I just wanted to know why I wasn’t good enough.
Excuses aside, I still stayed with you.

               And you still told your friends how I act when you asked to leave, but you never confessed the things you had said. You didn’t want your female friends to judge you poorly.
                              Only me, because you said I was an alpha and had already presumed they wouldn’t like me.

You were correct.

Before I met anyone you cared about, you told me how they didn’t like my face or how I photographed.
               You were able to spill all those words to me and then have the audacity to ask me to be nice.

You should’ve known you were setting me up for failure, and I should’ve been aware that you didn’t care.

You asked me to be supportive with your family, and I was.

 I gave you a piece of me, while exposed in nature to provide you with comfort, but my gift didn’t seem to satisfy you because you never acted grateful.

I had a surgery nearing, and you and your female friend wanted to travel and hike.
               I had waited a month for this surgery, and worked the date around for you before;
Now, several days until, and you want me to change everything.
               I couldn’t and I didn’t have the courage to ask you to stay, because I was afraid of the truth.
                              Afraid because I knew you wouldn’t.

I was ready to leave you then!
You hadn’t asked how I was or how my surgery went.
               You had your friend write me and harass me saying I was making your vacation miserable-
I was just told I was still too sick to operate on.
               I felt bitter and sick inside.

You crept into my room in the middle of the night and I woke up to you beside me.
               You thought by driving back and presenting me with flower would patch the hole;
               Nothing you could offer would have fixed the pieces of me you broke, but I still forgave you.

My chest still tightens as I think about June and all the truths you hid.
A different female friend had entered your life, one you had history with-
               I would catch glimpses at some of your messages and a part of me knew she liked you and I could see you liked the attention.
                              I advised you against writing her so often so either of you wouldn’t get confused.
                                             I pleaded with you not to call those video chats titles like video dates, but you and those two female friends had no cares for me.
                                             Of course this was obvious because of the things they said about me and to me, and how you never thought to stop them or protect me.
You just told me to be good.

You told me not come between you and your friends, and I eventually stopped trying to defend myself.

One night in June, while I was lying in bed beside you, I felt sick every time I looked at your face.
 I couldn’t stand you. In that moment I hated you more than I had ever hated any man before and I didn’t know why! I couldn’t justify it.

               I had to be losing my mind.
                              I snuck out of bed and sat in the shower, sick and disgusted with myself for having so much loathing for you.
I was scared of feeling that way again and scared of my room. Maybe it was a fragrance making me crazy, or maybe I didn’t want to accept knowing something I was not ready to admit.
               I lost my best friend to defend you, because I thought you were worth it.
But through all of this, you had a crush on someone else and were cheating on me.
               You were lying to my face every day, and making me feel insane.
                              You were still telling me you loved me and we were still sharing the same bed.
You hid the truth from me.

A car hit you, and I felt numb. I didn’t know how to feel because I didn’t know why it happened.
               I rushed to see you and decided to stay with you.
                              You started to treat me better, until the girl you liked moved back.

I was at a wedding as your date, with your friends, and she was there.
               I did not have history with everyone like you two, so I relied on you to keep me comfortable.
She kept staring at you and those same two girls pulled you up from the table to take photos while they acted as if I wasn’t there. I stayed sitting silently, waiting for you.
               I came back from the restroom and she is in my spot nuzzled against you complaining how I make things awkward.
                              Yet you could not understand why I felt hurt.
She repeated her actions against me through the night and when I asked if “we” would have to be alone with them again, you replied that I would not have to.
               You would make comments about missing them and telling me how you gave them up for me.       
                              I was willing to sacrifice moments of my happiness to be around them again because you were in love with me.
You hid truths again.

Eventually their responses to a group meeting made it back to me.
               It was hard getting you to be honest, but once the truth started to trickle out you could not stop.
                              You did not stop and you left me crying.
This is why it all ended.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Late Night Dwelling

I feel the breaking point, much like the tense moment before a fissure destroys a glass pane.

I have lost myself in a loop of excuses to avoid social interactions. I avoid social situations because I am sick and I am sick because the social situations leave me induced with stress. I understand how petty this dilemma is, but that understanding isn’t getting pass the thick knot in my throat.

I don’t want to breathe when I get near my front door because I know where the next door will lead, and I don’t want to be in that room.

My issue isn’t other people, at least not directly. I’m more pathetic than that. I am the matter.

The solution to my problem is arduous because their perception of who I am has begun to manifest in me. I can’t tell who I am anymore and it leaves me wondering if I’m broken?

My certainty is lost and the fire is being smothered. Their words are piercing through my flesh and echoing in my ears. I can drown their comments with thoughts. A polished front is donned by releasing anxieties through lead onto fibers.

Technical work is preformed to escape these abstract things labeled as emotions, but is that all I’m doing, escaping?

A brittle snap is nearing; I wonder if factures are mendable before breaks occur? My desperate desire is to find solitude with my books, their presumption do not pertain to me.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Echoing Silence

I realize ignorance is bliss,

but so is the sound of silence.

In my world, Happy DaNi's can't hear Stupid!

*stab stab stab*

*thumbs up*


... too bad I can still read! FML!

Monday, April 1, 2013


This is me! RAWR!

Im angry!!!

Like Dani-saurus ANGRY!

!!! RAWR !!!

My week has been full of people watching and facepalming! (DOH!)

I have heard sooo many rude opinions and have read enough illiterate texts to encourage me into dropkicking the next unsuspecting arse into refinement school!


This is a quick rant before I hop into the next book and flee towards princes that possess charm!!!

Friday, March 29, 2013

Leaping through Color

It's official! I've lost my marbles!

To date, my life has mostly been structured and consistent. It has always been easy.

So I decided to take the plane I've grown up on and spin it, invert it, and toss it to a point on an unknown axis.

This is me willingly deciding to go insane and to let go of everything that made my life static and simple.


Because structured and simple provided me with a normal life and right now that isn't what I want to pursue.

I don't want to wake up everyday to the same routine with the same interactions.

Static has become grey on the palette I'm using to color my life.

What I wanted most was to let go of the girl I grew up being and pursue the woman I would like to become; impulsively, I decided that would be most effective if I stripped myself bare and donned new skin that didn't match everyone else. I also thought jumping off a bridge would help.

This was me! A stereotyped blonde of society living a reality limited by a static role.

&& This is me going crazy! I'm not sure if it's the right thing to say, but I kind of like dynamics.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Art Work of a Junior High DaNi!

When I was twelve I had a very active imagination. On the rare weekends when I didn't have band practice or karate tournaments, I'd spend time reading or doodling. This is the art work of one misspent Saturday.

This was me four months ago; your everyday, all-american girl. That is, until I met him-Athony!!! Then things changed!

The moment Anthony entered her life, he caused Erika's sanity to become chaotic.

Erika changed a lot for Anthony. Perhaps she changed too much! [she was pressured by drugs and sex]

One day Anthony confessed that as good as Erika was in bed [and everywhere else], he wasn't interested in her. It was that day Erika realized that perhaps her new life dedicated and dependent on porn and drugs was a mistake. That same day she met Squirrely and sheltered him. Squirrely helped her recover and guided her to her true calling- becoming a punk super star! [BOY COULD THE GIRL SING!]

This is Squirrely, the crazy and very unlucky cat! [More like her guardian Kitty]

Which leads back to me today! Erika Susan Boyd [and Squirrely, the crazy kitty]! Trying to become a world famous punk super star!

If only I could perform in front of crowds >_<

All I've ever wanted to do is be able to sing in front of an audience without CHOKING! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!?

Oh! My! Gahhhhhh!!!! Why can't I sing a single note while everyone is watching!?!

Silly Erika!

Maybe I should have listened to everyone back home when they said I should give up. I guess it's my mistake.

If only she could sing in public like she could do other things [like fellatio and 69]!!!

She and Squirrely worked night and day on her performance phobia. They made little, but still noticeable progress

Squirrely made Erika sing loudly into the night until she was too tired to care. He asured her every person in the apartment complex could hear her sing. She preceded to improve tremendously.

Several days later, when Squirrely was certain Erika was ready to be a Punk Super Star he left her a large and very painful surprise in the Kitty Box. A magical microphone which Erika appreciated greatly!!!

That same night was Erika's big performance and the microphone magically transformed her! Erika's voice became amplified and confident, her aura became calm and tranquil!

The crowd loved her!

She was a hit!!!

Erika became so famous and popular that even her "beloved" Anthony came crawling back to her!

Apparently his current Suga' Mama', Ariel, the porno star he had left Erika for was no longer as financially secure as Erika.

And boy did Anthony love being pampered!!!

But Erika had learned from her previous mistake [Her obsessive infatuation with with Anthony]. Thanks to the help of Zingo, her brave flying toaster, she put the sick and manipulative bastard out of his misery!

With Erika's beauty, fame, and wealth; her lies flowed easily.The police officers declared Erika's innocence and announced Anthony's death a dick-head suicide.

Erika continued to perform and the crowd continued to love her.

With the cops happy and financially credited; Erika's drama degenerated and she developed a sense of satisfaction with herself.

Feeling secure she preformed her final "Punk Super Star" show and was a smash!

After the show Squirrely confessed that he was a man and the could only be changed back to his human form with a big, sloppy kiss!

Erika obliged!

Squirrely became the midget prince he was born as and he and Erika eloped in a Dodge Dude Truck.

They lived happily together for two week then were smashed by a "pimped out" dumpster.


These are just random doodles during lectures. It was just before the time I was became interested in Johnny the Homicidal Maniac comics =]

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Last of the Consequence

No consequences, that’s how I feel things should have ended. We were both getting what we wanted, but I became greedy and I wanted more from you than what was being offered. For a moment, I thought you would let me have my way. You did not; instead, you started to dodge me. I may have rebuffed at that response. I have never been skilled at taking rejection gracefully, but you were as equally talented at handling confrontation.

I have moments where my barriers slip and I feel shrouded by darkness. There’s always someone behind me, and I can’t face him. He’s after the warmth I keep protected in my chest. He scares me.

During those moments, I panic and my heartbeat jumps, but then I realize you don’t exists anymore. If it weren’t for the memories, I wouldn’t believe you were real.

Friday, March 15, 2013

A Fun Piece

Every year they come and take over my home. They put up their booths and stands without any regards to the domiciles they’re disrupting. I can’t take it!

Not this year!

I will have my revenge on Vintage Days for their invasion on my domain! I will shut down the student group with every follicle of fur on my endothermic body! When twilight arrives, my spleenful plot will execute I felt electric with spark from fibers of wires being gnawed between my dulled incisors. Each split in the wires opened the gap of separation from input to output; by sunrise, their supply of electricity will drop to zero and their plans for celebration will die.

Plans are never meant to be absolute, but my anticipation for interruption was minute. In the midst of my revenge, I was throttled from my reverie by a bull dog.

Victor E. had caught me, a frenzied squirrel trying to extract vengeance through defilement of Vintage Day property. The adrenaline from panic pumped from my whiskers to my tail, but I relented in suspending my current activities to account for my misanthropic actions.

Victor E. didn’t attack me, he just watched.

The intensity of his eyes were pressuring the truth from my mouth, and I began to confide my frustrations of this event and my life to him. Victor E. didn’t speak a single word during the entirety of my rant. As the last syllable slipped through my lips, an onslaught of exhaustion wracked my body.

I felt Victor E. step closer and trepidation trembled throughout me- but I didn’t sense any rage, just comfort. He had listened to my confession and in reflection, I realized I sounded pathetic. He sat beside me and told me that frustration is nothing to bury; it’s the truth of our thoughts that we are ashamed to acknowledge and suppress- but it’s natural. His words relaxed my rigid frame as I listened to him elaborate the rights of frustration at frivolous things. He held my attention captive by the confidence in his speech. Our discussion drifted towards Vintage Days. We spoke of the fantastic food that would be left for us to enjoy, the beautiful melodies of happiness that will fill the air, and the exciting activities that will relieve our frustrations.

That night Victor E. saved Vintage Days, and he saved me- a lonely squirrel confused by his own introverted nature and desire to be alone. That night I learned to embrace the company of others and developed something to celebrate.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Restless Truths

Dreams are supposed to be wishes of your heart,
I feel they’re more like truths you can’t escape.

I suppose it’s not enough that I’ve succumbed to memories I can’t ignore,
  now your presence decides exists in my dreams too.

     I’ve fought your image with my pride and I’ve become exhausted.

The truth is painfully obvious-
  I leave your tongue and thoughts bitter
  and you leave me shattered.

Perhaps our kisses were malignant,
  and any romance with you would’ve been malevolent-
  With you, I still would’ve been happy.

If you asked me, I’d be yours;
the reality,
you never wanted me.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Fragile People Scream Loudest

Fragile people scream loudest-
Except some screams are at frequencies that can’t be heard.

His words and actions roll around in my head.
I’m swaying in my safe haven, letting the steam cleanse me.
Vaguely, I’m aware of frigid nails biting into my palms
And their lingering crescents blooming with rose petals.
My legs are trembling to a fugue tune.

He’s on top, and he has just finished-
He’s asking me if he can leave.

Epiphanies shine behind glazed eyes,
I realize I’m an instrument to be played.

I embrace my purpose
  because I’ve always given myself the best hugs.

Monday, February 18, 2013

Memories to be Forgotten (Part 3)

Memories of him still nip at my skin- piercing me with their arctic intent. I try to escape the images by huddling on the shower floor, hot water acting as my shield. But the steaming water can’t protect me from the truth, I did know what “this” was. “This” was me falling in love with the shadow of a man’s heart.

As long as he thought I was unavailable, I was safe. As soon as he realized the truth, my heart was his to obtain. I avoided being alone with him. I was weary of his objectives and his influence over me; however, time provided me with arrogance and I thought I could hold my own against him.

It started again, this time the beginning was him rescuing me from a dark parking lot. My fault was that I still trusted him with every piece of me. That night he took me speeding in his car- the starry sky and music surrounded us. I became intoxicated with serenity and I lost myself to him. I should’ve seen the sign when he took a week to text me back but the fatality of trust is that it blinds a person to obvious ill intent.

When he told me I had to be a secret because others disapproved of my presence, I accepted it as divine retribution for how I had treated him prior. I let him lead me to become nothing but a willing body for his release. I became devoted to his body. He trained me well.

After each night he spent in my bed, he would reward me with my favorite breakfast treats. He surprised me by remembering everything that I had favored and continued reminding me of how much attention he had paid to me. My devotion deepened by the feeling of debt and I submitted to being beneath him.

I asked him to stop being so kind; for what “this” was supposed to be, it was unnecessary and muddled my feelings more. He never did comply.

He continued to go out of his way to ensure my physical well-being by ensuring I was nourished while around him. His attention to my body is why I trusted him- he was always catching me when I’d stumble beside him. However, it was the joy he gave me when we were racing on the slick asphalt, the playfulness of him pushing me in the cold water of the showers, and him holding me while I was covered in sweat- these were reasons why I fell in love with him.

He had become a permanent fixture in my life again- he had managed to find me in the rain when I was drunk, he looked after me the night when I was broken, and he carried me to bed when I was too tired to place myself there properly. He did so many things in exchange for my agony.

The tears I refused to shed when he rejected me still belong to him. The images of him carrying me in his arms still haunt me in my hallway. He was right, I had always known what “this” was- the sacrificing of my heart in exchange for the closure he had not been able to receive previously. Ghosts of his fingerprints leave me jaded. The pain he buried deep inside my heart festers from the damage he caused- He left me broken.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Memories to be Forgotten (Part 2)

The truth of my life, at that moment, was that Reality is a bitch.

I doubt that I ever thought he would face the ramifications of our actions while standing next to me because it was something I could never ask of him. I had justified that asking him to wait for me was more than I deserved- Now I’m left grasping to remain focused because the possibility of what his response could have been leaves me petrified.

He was eighteen, I remember because I reminded him of it often after he teased me- how could I have asked him to be an adult with me? I wasn't able to convince myself that request was fair. I felt a new piece of me begin to tear. His trust was rendering my thoughts suffocated. I was anxious to fix everything and everyone but there wasn't a Band-Aid big enough to amend all of the consequences.

I confessed everything to my father and he didn't waste any effort in trying to mask his disappointment- he left me suffering in silence while he thought of a response. I anticipated a hard truth but I hadn't prepared for how cold it would feel. He reminded me of who had more to lose and questioned if I could do that to an innocent person – I was lost in that moment before I realized that I couldn't do it.

Did he know I was slipping away? Could he feel the distance I was putting between us? I could and it tasted bitter like a cold penny dissolving on my tongue.

There was nothing sweet about our last night together- he was mad at me and I used it to wedge us further apart. I used his anger to make the disconnection easier- then I left.

He argued that I ruined everything- he said the mess was entirely my fault; but he knew of my situation.

I never intended to leave him feeling abandoned or cast aside! I only meant to let him move on, free of the penance I was left to pay. My punishment was the disease of festering guilt feeding on memories I had refused to release.My intention was to have him be spared of the pain and guilt I had to endure because I was the adult in our relationship.

If I lost focus, the barriers on my mind would slip; my thoughts would be concerned with him. I caught myself hoping he was doing well and imagining he had been left unscathed. I never considered he would feel pained by my decision- and I never considered he would focus on each of my flaws daily until he magnified them to a disgusting hatred for me. If I had realized sooner I would've tried to help him.

Days died with the sunset and were reborn with the sun rise- months passed before I could consider exposing my existence to him. I thought he was fine because his laughter would echo into my classroom; I never forgot his voice.

I wanted to apologize to him, for everything! I had decided to accept complete responsibility because I realized that not everything can be divided both equally and fairly.

His voice traveled into my class near the end of the period during each of the lectures; it was reoccurring and could be timed to the final ten minutes of class. I dedicated seconds of dwindling minutes to listen to his tone to detect signs of happiness- I thought he was fine.

I was hesitant with the action of apologizing because I was worried it would do more harm than good, but I had to know he was doing well. I’m ashamed of my apology because it was composed in a cowardly manner and delivered through an email. My trepidation in facing him was founded in the uncertainty as to whether he wanted to see me. He accepted my sincerity and we proceeded to be playfully platonic as long as he thought I was unavailable.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Memories to be Forgotten (Part 1)

Sometimes to erase memories, we have to start at the beginning. The issue is remembering everything from the start can hurt- I can already feel my chest tightening to hold the pieces of my heart together–
Is it worth ripping open these deep wounds to forget?

The starting point was the beginning of a fall semester, some years ago . I had just finished running up three flights of stairs to rush into my theater class . I was late and feeling anxious, it wasn't a new feeling for me- but despite my mental disarray, I noticed him . I suppose it would've been hard for me to be unaware of his presence considering his height-  compared to my petite frame, he towered over me . Secretly, I think  I liked that
Although we sat near each other,  it was obvious he paid me no mind, so  I sought out to gain his attention. I was drawn to his laid back demeanor; he had always be so easy going.

Originally, I may have noticed him for his height, but my first observation was in his hands. He had long, masculine fingers- they were flawless. His nails were always well-kept, never too long and always clean. In spite of their utter beauty, his hands never looked feminine- maybe that was because his beautiful, masculine hands were connected to his beautiful, masculine wrists which were connected to his beautiful, masculine arms. Observing his beautiful hands, that was the start of my attraction to him.

Each class period, I’d seek him out- he was quickly becoming my addiction. I always wanted to be near him, to engage him, and to have him notice me. I found him on a social networking site and located his number – that day, I texted him. Our texts were playful and revolved around food; all the while I attempted to remain anonymous- he figured me out.

 We started spending more time together.  Classmates had asked if we were dating- I’d deny it, but if we weren't dating, then what were we?

I asked him to walk my dogs with me, I was sincerely afraid to walk alone, and he complied. During that walk, he did the most beautiful thing I had ever seen a man do- he got down on one knee and poured water into his cupped hand; he made a bowl for my dog. That night I talked to my mother about my feeling and she knew I had a crush, given my circumstance, she warned me to be careful.

My emotions only grew stronger and I began to desire more physical contact, more of his hugs- I was completely and utterly infatuated.

Autumn was ending and I was being torn apart inside. I was able to suppress the pain by focusing on my desire- him.

One night I called him after a dance  rehearsal- he drove to the school to pick me up and then took me to eat. His car had sentimental knickknacks. A cowardly lion sat on the dashboard and his graduation tassel dangled from the rear-view mirror. His car was loud for being a Pacer, but he was driving; his hands were on the wheel so I felt safe. That night he made me a small origami rose from scrap- he had such talented hands.

I learned we had a hobby in common,  we each enjoyed snowboarding. He went to the School’s snowboarding club with me to purchase my season pass. I was elated that there was a chance for us to spend more time together.

The snowboarding club was having a raffle at a local Grill; he drove us there and then to a store so he could make a purchase his upcoming project. He carried me to the car, through the parking lot; I can’t recall any other guy being able to carry me so securely. In his car, I curled up in my seat and day dreamed. Maybe he was beginning to like me, too.

It felt like all our teasing, wrestling, pushing, and pulling were foreplay and the moment he lifted me onto the hood of my car, I became unhinged. The heat spread over every surface of my body, it was the first time I had ever blushed that intensely. Every part of me was on fire and he was between my legs. The cold metal pressed against my back and his hands were on me, I was becoming dizzy. The threads of my control were fraying; I had to leave- I had to get away from him.

Later that week I confessed what that simple action had done to me, he seemed surprised that I was so easily embarrassed and all I wanted was for him to make me feel that embarrassed again. The memory still ignites a fire and causes a shiver. After that, I lost control.

I don’t recall when it happened, I just remember wanting to share myself with him- I wanted him to feel the heat that I felt; I wanted him to feel how much I burned for him.

It started in my truck with territorial marks; his hands were holding me while his teeth were scrapping against my skin, but he always had more self-control than I did. His neck had a glaring purple mark for a week. We joked that a flying doorknob had hit him, maybe because we liked feeling like the truth was our own private secret.

Later, a blazing gust overtook me; I was left straddling him- and apologizing. Perhaps I could have stopped myself from using him, but more than anything- I didn't want to. Every day I wanted more of him and my sanity couldn't say no anymore.

Truth be told, he was amazing- he set all my nerves on fire. It scared me. I became more torn than ever and I had made myself this way.

Up in the snow with friends, we were casual; but I’m sure everyone knew of our relationship. I couldn't keep myself from liking him more than I ever wanted to admit, so I pulled away. Deep down, while falling apart, I was a coward. The only proof of faith I could offer him was allowing him to be my only partner. My body was honest, it knew it wanted only him, but my mind was still sorting through its own conflict.

Time and time again, I’d wake up in his bed. I slept more peacefully there than I did in my own home because in his bed I could be honest, I could offer him all of me and accept everything he had to give. In his shower, I’d ask him questions and he was always so honest about everything- so why didn't he act like he wanted me more?

After Christmas, he took me to my favorite breakfast place; I’m surprised he had memorized my order- maybe that’s why I want to cry ?

When we were full,  we took the remains to-go and headed for his hometown. His town was smaller than mine, it was charming though. The house he grew up in was large; I always thought he was a little spoiled. It’s one of the reasons I was convincing myself to not be in love.

It rained on us while we were at the school, kicking one of his soccer balls; but that was okay because the scene was mesmerizing . Beyond the school were rolling hills layered in lush green grass- I took a photo of those hills and kept it.

While in town, he introduced me to his best friend, I watched them play pool. He was so tall and graceful, and always had beautiful hands. That evening he, his best friend, a companion, and I drove around through the night.

The next day he gave me a memory that still scorches my senses and leaves me feeling dazed.

He offered me a wonderful vacation from my own life, I was willing to promise him my world to satisfy him; too bad my reality was at home.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Lost Moments

I could feel his arm draped over my body and his large hand encasing my small one, holding me against him. His heat pressed flush against the cool skin of my back. A tremble rocked through me at the intimate sensation. He’d always been capable of igniting each of my nerves.
He shifted his weight on the bed behind me. I felt him move over my body before I became lost in him. So rapidly, my senses were overwhelmed; my only anchor to reality was his hot breath licking against my ear. Through my daze, I realized he was asking if I was okay. The weak smile I gave him was forced and accompanied by an enthusiastic nod. At that point I was certain words would not have been able to escape my tightened throat.
He lay back down beside me and continued to hold me close. How was I supposed to tell him that I feared the end of this? Because, for me, all of "it" had never been casual.

He left me with a stigmata

To surmise, He left me stigmatized.
His vengeance burned against my iced decision.
I felt His malice lick the shackles binding my heart
and I conceded to His whim.

His lust was my rapture-
and I was more than willing to be used-
to be destroyed.

He was like a fiery tornado
resolved to incinerate any shadows of joy I had left
and I let Him
because somewhere in that scalding moment
I fell in love with Him.