Home Sweet Home

Thinking, always thinking and being told how to think.
Yes, it's important to know what is right, what's wrong, and the appropriate way to act.
Isn't the way I think just as valuable? Speaking out just makes
the mother that brought you into this world role her eyes. What makes
you think your mind has that kind of value? Your husband knows what is right.
He knows what is best. Listen to his desires, fulfill his wants and needs.
Oh your not in the mood? Oh poor you having to spread those legs for a man
who brings you into a home that looks like this. I'd gladly get on my knees
to scrub the floor and other need that could be meet or done.
Silly woman. See what you don't appreciate.

Left alone to the "palace" or dungeon as I like to view it.
Silence gives most people anxiety or a nervousness. Not me.
Looking around these rooms, they are filled with moments of my husband
wanting me to please and serve him. That does not haunt me.
The silence takes away those moments and makes me be in peace.

Just a Kiss.

That moment when your heart reminds you that there is no going back now
the barrier you knew not to cross you let yourself get caught up. A moment decision
that you did not say no to. Yes, there was a time where as you had to say was this is too far
       that's it. . . but no. You let it happen with his hands on you, having a way with
you that you knew was wrong. Not what the state or others see as a violation because
let's face it it was your idea. Nothing can be said when its yourself who came up with
the violation. No this cannot be. Curled up under the covers holding a stuffed animal
you've had for years and the tears begin in your eyes. A slow trickle remember the moments
leading up to what happened. Thinking the control is all in your hands and that he's the toy.

Silly toy doing all that I ask. That gives you a false confidence. You know what your doing,
at least that's what you tell yourself. This is so boring and we're sitting here and I'm uncomfortable
all I have to do is turn and kiss him and that will change things. Such a silly thought.
Getting physical to pass time. What a waste. What a silly idea. Such a silly girl. No you were
no silly girl. It was all your idea. I turned and kissed you that now you can't stop those
temptations to continue. All I did was a soft invitation kiss that you pull me in hard kissing deeper.
Just kissing. That's all I thought to pass some of the slow moving pieces to this movie. I think kissing
but you have other ideas. Farther ideas. . . But, you had the control right?

What's right?

Trapped of this world of thinking what is right and wrong,
     the body, the flesh, my lust has it's needs. Needs to feel this idea
of pleasure . . . desire. Physical contact that feels
                                                                              so right. And wanted.

Is this love? No. Is there an attraction? Yes. Attraction of looks?
Maybe. Attraction of the person? I don't know. The body
       calls for the feeling it's strong and demanding
it calls when it wants and needs to be addressed. I cannot get it out of
   my head. . . It has taken over my mind. Constantly going

in this fantasy world of ideas, passions and pleasurable moments.
moments that I have been thinking about that are not finally
happening. . . I wondered what they would be like. This fantasy.

                     This is no fantasy though. These action are
happening. I have no will to stop. I keep asking and creating them. They
are on my mind c o n s t a n t l y. I cannot control them. All I
             want and need is to know what he would do to me
when I did what i said to him.
                                                I get no answer.
                                                                          I am the longing on.

              Are these feeling okay or should I stop?
I don't talk about it because I don't want my actions to be know
but he knows. I won't talk about them with him. . . But He knows.

Heart aching, flowing over with anger and heart break
      you brought these ideas in my head. These
promises you had no intention of following through on. Words
             that hold no meaning to you
besides an end goal you hope to reach and accomplish.
     Silly boy, did your mother not teach you properly?

Playing with a girls heart, she fights back, and this one
   has a
             mean punch
                                 with a world of issues she's not afraid
to hold back on. You giggle like the other girls huddled in
     a circle. With a smile that is obnoxious on that
face of yours. Promises. Yeah that what I remember
 
             I promise it was only once.

Only once with her. Then the rest of the alphabet tends to follow
                     in the only once situation.

I can stare and pray that you are who I've made you up to be
in my mind. Fellow of pride, respect, and someone I wish to call mine.
                  HA! My secret. My pleasure. My douche.
Those seems to flow right out of the mouth so easily.
What about when you were my friend? Lover? Person who made me happy?
Are you still that person? Or have those been taken away?
Moments of peace just looking in your eyes with it all feeling right.
Then you say you don't want to explain yourself because then I could
get the wrong idea. . . Making a girl feel useless and leaving her that
way is the better bet?

Your Mama didn't raise you right.
          Or you ignored her when saying you will break girls heart
if you don't respect them. Respect seemed easy.
     To show respect you need to respect yourself. Lying to
the one you say your closet with, how can you love anyone?

The blood on my hands should feel cold,
they can't see it, but I do. Every time
I look down. Covered in deep red. I've
never seen anything like it. I held your
Heart in my hands. Your bare heart, vain
straining to push blood that were no longer
connected to. It's beautiful and surreal.

The street continues as I take steps hearing
the clanking of my heels. Stilettos on a cement
sidewalk in the heart of winter. This is the life
I now live since I've killed you. An established
women in the higher ups. They first saw me as the
sad broken hearted girl who they were giving
a break. It was only a broken heart. You were the bastard who lost.

Baby

Need to be told right from wrong,
Mama didn't raise me right. I'd
sit in the crib to await her return
but even in the cries I knew it to
be no use. The cry was to call her
in but all it did was keep the stranger
in her arms here longer because I was
an interruption. A baby was not seen
as setting the mood, sometimes
Mama would come back bleeding from
not properly satisfying, due to a baby
who was hungry. One time Mama
didn't come, it was a man, who rocked
me saying, "baby don't cry" he wore
a uniform, while Mama smiled. I
never saw her smile before, was
this a random man or could this be Dadda?

Voice Within

Glass everywhere to make for perfection,
however for this it exposes all the flaws,
an overbearing voice that remember these mistakes
although this small mind does not comprehend the tone.

Another voice to say what's wrong and what's right
each voice contradicts the other. Who to listen to
and obey, or should the voice within be right?
A child like mind knows what's right and wrong,

Age adds experience but also a hard heart and confusion.
Children may have the voice of reason
in this scary time, why undermine them when times fail us due to
either way, turn out, jump and plea.