The Muse.

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Artist: unknown
Model: Instagram @kaylablackmon @illbrill

There were things that needed to be done today. Right lower side of my head began throbbing at my never ending to do list this morning. Stress headaches have been a thing for me lately. A little overwhelmed with all that is going on currently with work, school and life. I get so tired at work sometimes. The only thing that lowers the anxieties of the paperwork is making sure I take a few minutes out of my day to spend time with you. My sister gave me this great idea now that I have this new office at work. No windows. Door is always locked. My silver friend I hide at the bottom of my bag. I can enjoy you just as you're enjoying yourself. I even maintain eye contact during the time we spend. Lunch breaks have become seconds of pleasure lately. They serve as reminders on my phone that I mustn't forget that I am a sexual woman who, is fully aware of herself and her body's capabilities. There's a magic to your being. It's in your ability to teach me over again. To instruct me and force me to pull myself out. You invoke that side of me. The side of me in which I am deeply consumed by. The side of me that I love and cherish, adore. It's the me that I love. The me that you acknowledge. It's in your voice. The look in your eyes. I feel sexy. I write about you so often, in short paragraphs to mimic the short burst of time I get with you now. I haven't been able to write in full depth because I need all of you to help inspire and force me to reconnect with myself. There's parts of you that I want to belong to. The physical meshes beautifully with you and I wonder what other doors could be unlocked. But, I remain at bay with certain things because, well, nobody wants to get hurt I suppose. It's hard to unsee the beauty in vulnerability the moment you tip me open, that is what is so addicting. Because the small tastes of your lips always leave me wanting more. The body never lies and I've been repeating that same sentiment for a while. I met you, well, accidentally discovered you through old post and war stories of old lovers. What an unlikely connection, don't you think? That the universe would create it so that the freedom I needed would transpire through you.

Life is at my fingertips whenever we connect.

Apple lemonade?

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Why don’t we trust our bodies? What is so wrong in just listening for once? Listen to the way the rhythm decreases. Listen to the body and how it begs for freedom. Are you free? Do you feel free in this? I think this has been something I’ve been struggling with for a while. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself enough to be ok with decisions when it comes to the matters of the heart. So I make mistakes. And I smile and drift into this facade that somehow, magically things will work themselves out. That the universe understands what’s really needed and what’s really meant for me and somehow, someway I will receive what is coming my way. But, how? If the fear is bigger than the belief, what gets accomplished? What’s the deciding factor that now is the time to move? Are you really free? Every bit of my being says no but my mind is fixated on making lemonade out of apples. Everything says no. But I continue on. And I keep fighting. I keep going as if I have something to prove. As if I am to prove my body wrong. To show that I am capable of suppressing and repressing and formatting and editing myself to fit the likes of another. To finally show that I,too, can be a soft woman of love and submit easily to a man who may not be enough for me. I can lie down and quiet myself for love. I am proving this to my body so that I can move forward with the knowledge that I am able to love monogamously. There is ability in my being to give unselfishly and diminish parts of myself for stability. For security. In the name of a progressing relationship, I am here ready to sacrifice essentials of my being for your love. For you, because I am tired of running around in circles looking for a love that probably doesn’t exist. A love where compatibility and stability coexist as a unification of a passionately intense loving relationship. And I say all that to say…. I’m not even happy. And I have to wonder, why am I even fighting myself? 

Home. 

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Written: December 12,2015 

I would rather stay home and write for the rest of this day. I have so much to say. Mixture of hurt&still feeling ready for more of life. I had sex like a week ago and it was so good. Surprisingly good. I don’t remember the last time I felt the strong urge to keep someone here, just inside me. But sometimes we misread things. And it’s ok. Things happen. At the end of the day something was either gained or lost. You live to learn. I gained more writing material. The feelings are so strong. So very much still alive. You can’t just quit things when you feel like it. That’s why time is so crucial. So you ride it out and let your words mend broken bridges. It’s ok. Sometimes when I pray, I ask the most high to guide me and show me signs. Sometimes I feel the most highs presence and sometimes my prayers get answered. I pray for strength a lot. More than I used to. I gotta phone call the other day and the voice on the other end made my heart stop. “Brittany, don’t you love me?”I thought we agreed to live separate lives? Conversations of babies and remember that one night when we… The memories. Your voice. Here I am again. Empty promises and my heart in your hand. I asked you to stop. It’s been 3 yrs. You’re hurting me with your version of loving me. How can you? What am I? I hate questions. Because you have to ask them and it doesn’t matter if you already know the answer, to hear and feel and then to assume are all 3 very different sensations. Every now and then I lose control. I can’t deal with everything at once. It’s too much. I’m too sensitive. I would rather stay home today and just write. I need time to heal. But I have to work and smile for my patients. I would rather just stay home.