Duality

Being versatile is amazing... especially when you're just being yourself. Instead of imitating others but sometimes there's nothing original to some people. There might be only two sides to a coin but there are more than two sides of every person. 

Here's an old photo and old writing about fighting yourself. 

Are you dualistic?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m. 

Reveal

(7-31-2010)

Here she comes around again… Tiptoeing into the back of my mind when she enters the room. I’m alone tonight. Except for emma.

Quietly she whispers into my ear.

“Let it breathe. The thoughts that fill your mind. Savor it. Enjoy the kill. You know how disappointed you can get when you forget to give in to the rhythm of it all.”

She always does this. Circles around me after entering the room. Leaning in and observing my thoughts with little effort but every time she never fails to diagnose the problem accurately. Tonight is different. I flip the pages shut when she leans in for a kiss and whispers.

Fingers slide in and out of the wire of the chair and I can feel her frustration. Slowly the tiny digits move upward toward my head. Through my hair and reaching down to my neckline. Up and down they slide, gripping around my neck before moving down to my shoulders. I tense up and flinch to shake free. She reacts with a jerk. Wounded like a child she waits before leaning in again. But nevertheless she does. Hands grip tighter around my neck. Locked. Her breath kisses my face while she leans in further to let her tongue glide along my earlobe. She bites and releases.

“Stop hiding behind that mask!” she speaks quietly in a hiss that persists into my ears.

Her anger precedes her. “You’re so in LOVE with your problems.” Words like knives stick into my heart.

A wave of panic sends my heart racing as I spin my chair around to face her. Chest continues to heave uncontrollably while emma slinks over to the bar and continues her rant. “You haven’t written anything in over a month.”

She pauses briefly to pour a glass of Rouge before resuming her rant.

“All of this?” A wave of her beautifully slender arm graces the atmosphere. “Listen to me! All of this has been produced. You are merely coasting on what has already been. There is nothing new. You know it and SO… DO… I!”

She steps around the bar and back towards my work space.

I’m completely speechless as emma crosses the room. She wants to kiss me. We aren’t in agreement so there’s no passion. I despise her, she loves me. I want to tear her face off, she wants to embrace and inspire me. I can feel her rage as she leans over my body across my shoulder to see the empty page.

“Honestly, how can you expect me to continue to show up?” she touches my face and kisses my neck while her fingers run through my long hair. “Look gorgeous, inspiration is standing right in front of you. It’s time to do something about it.”

Quietly I sip at my Merlot and take another puff at my cigar. emma is right, she’s rarely ever wrong. I’m a capable woman yet here I am at 3am holed up with my problems instead of making love to my beautiful muse and producing work inspired by her captivating presence.

Then again she’s grown quite arrogant and I’m tired of these childish games. The coming and goings at all hours is a wear on my patience.

“You think just because you show up, I can instantly turn it on.” My psyche is not ruled by a light switch. “Simply yelling ‘POOF!’ will not make it happen.” emma walks away the moment my voice raises.

But what answer can there be? I’m alone drinking night after night and there she appears and assumes that it’s best to work because she’s in the mood. Well tonight I’m not feeling it. “Shut the fuck up.” I toss an empty bottle in her direction.

“What the fuck?!” She screams and brings down her glass with a slam. The glass shatters and I’m stunned at her reaction.

What the fuck, indeed. I’m alone. Drinking. Yelling… at my muse!

Mentally this is the point she checks out. Tonight is different though. She wants my throat. I want her death. We are equally in contempt for each other.

Across the room it flies. A bottle of red wine zipping past my face. “You’re wasting your time and good wine. You missed my face you stupid bitch! Quit.”

Bottle after bottle hits the wall behind me. Red splashes across the white. Blank canvas coated in a watery mess.

“Ha ha ha! I see red!” She shrieks in sheer delight from across the room before tossing the bottle of Chianti at my head.

Typically she mentally checks out when it gets too rough. Not tonight. She’s in it to win. Whatever could she be after? I’m certainly not inspired by this tantrum. But it is entertaining. I quite enjoy her fits on occasion. This one seems like it is almost over.

“REVEAL YOURSELF! Tell the truth.” She yells at me in a giggling yet taunting arrogance.

“What ever do you mean by all of this? No one is the enemy. We are in agreement.” Although we are not I say the words to pacify her. Halfheartedly I toss aside my glass and start over towards emma.

She is standing still with a bottle raised over her head. There’s still anger in her eyes and she speaks calmly despite her hostile stance.

“I’ve given you countless opportunities to confess. Say it. I need you to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“Why silly that you’re a fraud, of course.” She opens her bright red lips wide to reveal her white teeth as a laugh grows from her belly. Down lowers the bottle during this hysterical laughter until it lands on the floor in a shatter. The red liquid sprays across her bare legs and coats the hardwood floor.

On and on pours out the laughter. Until I finally edge close enough to put my hands around her waist. She stops smiling and looks at me. I kiss her forehead and lean against her face. Then I begin.

“Honey, please sit down. Talk with me. What are you thinking?” I motion toward the nearest chairs. She stiffens but does not jerk away.

“Take off the mask with me. You know I can still see you with it on.”

“Fine. Why am I a fraud? Is this about the work again? We’ve been through this far too many times. In the end I will win. There are no masks concealing anyone.” I tighten my grip around her waist and shove her toward the chair. I’m tired of this silly shit. I need to work and I’m hardly up for these antics.

“Liar. Without me there would be no work. I’m everything…”

emma shows up everything does seem to move better, but that’s hardly inspiration. She’s unreliable, unreasonable and I’m going to kill her. I wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze.

“Stop. Who’s lying now? You can’t prove that. I was spinning thousands of tales before you showed up.” Tighter my hands lock in. She reaches up and grabs my waist and pulls me down.

“But nothing was worth a penny before me. And… you know it. Admit it.” She bites at the skin on the inside of my arm. Red smears across the whiteness of my skin. “Are you going to do it or not?” Afraid? Maybe I’m right and all of it goes...”

Let loose. Back flies my hand and strikes her face. For some reason punishing her hurts me. I wince at the pain my slap causes her.

“You do it and I’ll take it all with me.” She plays extortionist better than she plays lover. Lips keep kissing and biting at my elbow between words. Hands and fingers are unbuttoning my shirt and pulling at my skin. She wants more but I loathe her.

“I don’t care. Die!”

I wrap both hands around her neck and start in. Her arms reach out to pull mine away and find no match for the anger that is in my grip. Eyes open wider and wider. She looks like a blow up doll with her mouth wide open and eyes popped out. Click. Click. Click. Sounds like a clock escape out of her dry mouth. Legs raised and heels flailing. Slowly energy drains from her body. I can feel the struggle gently fading away. Her face drops aside without lines and I let go.

Sitting down I look over at her unmoving shell and wait. Wait for the animation of life to take hold again. Can I create without her? I don’t know. I’m in love with her, but I can not tolerate this abuse. She’s always like this but tonight is different. No one walks away. Not even I.

And I’m inspired. That makes this scenario almost worse than before. Is it there because of what I’ve done or is it just there like a light that has been turned on? She’s beautiful when she’s silent. Bright red lips spread wide open. Still. I place my head in my hands and feel like sobbing. But I can’t there are words. Oh so many words flowing and pouring into my empty head.

Two hands wrap around my waist and slide up around my breasts. Breath crawls around my neck as a face leans against my shoulder. “Did you like that?”

“Is that how you plan on handling things from now on?” I reach over and touch her cheek. She leans in to kiss me.

“I gave you what you needed. It’s what you were afraid of. You know…”

“Losing you. My inspiration. Without you what would there be? What will come next?”

“Don’t worry about that. Come to bed.” She releases her hold and gets up. Walking away quietly she begins disrobing. emma is always like this when she returns. I never know what the timing will bring. Only that it will come.

“I have a few things to…”

Quietly she whispers in my ear.

“I know… let it out. Give into the rhythm. Dance. Let these thoughts and feelings reveal themselves. Don’t hold back. Savor. Enjoy. Come when you’re ready.”

And there she goes again… Tiptoeing out of the room, her presence remaining in the back of my mind.

I Will...

I will tell you to

Get up in the morning

And face the world.

I will tell you to be strong

And fight, keep going.

I will tell you everything

Will be okay.

I will push you, inspire

You, motivate you, and

Encourage you to be more.

I will not stop.

I will continue.

You are so much more.

You can be anything,

All you have to do is believe. 

But it is a shame,

How we know what is good

For others,

But don't know what's good

For ourselves.

Listen to yourself,

And listen often.

Doing so will be

the kind of thing that will

Save you.

Save you from killing yourself

Or killing someone.

Listen to yourself.

You know yourself better.

Don't let the voice inside

of you get away.

~ R.M. Drake

Friday Feelings: Breathlessly Consumed

Gossip and nosiness are things unnecessary in the world when direct contact is much easier. Why speculate when the truth shows loyalty? This doll is loyal to a fault when it comes to respect for her friends space & privacy and when she is consumed with missing them dearly or is concerned she makes a call or sends a message. Most of the time absences are rarely personal. Here's an old photo & poem from A Heart Found.

Do you get consumed by your own thoughts?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

 

Breathless.

Consumed.

Sightless. 

Senseless. 

Nearly lifeless.

I'm almost hopeless

Without a glimpse of you.

Maintaining my strength.

I make my way 

Forward. 

Guided only by the anticipation

Of your touch...

On my skin.

~m.

Wednesday Words: Breathless

Ever miss anyone so much you couldn't catch your breathe without them? Here's an old one from A Heart Found. I'll quote Matisse because I recall writing is both my vice and passion which do not require an explanation.   

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m.

 

These moments

When I can't breathe.

Balling up

Into the pain,

I'm reminded that I've been absent

Too long

From your grace.

Completely satisfied by life

On my own.

I let you go

For life is

A pleasure you too enjoy

On your own.

Yet I gasp for air

Aching from

Inside out

To feel your touch,

To see your face.

Knowing you enjoy

Your freedom

I only desire

A glimpse to quench 

The thirst.

Knowing 

It will have to be enough

I set you free

Again.

Until the air

I breathe

Grows thin...

Without the sight of you.

~m.

Throwback Thursday: Falling Thoughts & Feelings

Looking back only serves to remind me of the joy of consoling my heart in someone's absence... a memory that is all too familiar at the moment. The Love series was the first time I went light instead of dark to create from my feelings.

You can find the entire series in my book A Heart Found on Amazon.

Do you create joy or pain from your emotional state?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

 

Slow dive

And

Free Falling.

Floating.

Although unknown,

I'm

Alive by these

Growing feelings

That ache my heart

In your absence.

Knowing

Open Arms

And Able Hands

Are there

When we're ready...

To be caught.

~m

Monday Memories: Dreams

Memories...  if you could see them before they were made would you still choose to make them?  

Another from the Love Series that can be found in my book A Heart Found on Amazon. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

 

Dreams are like

Memories

We haven't created.

I know your hand is in mine.

But we haven't yet embraced it.

Awake

Knowing the time will come

For our two bodies

To join hands

To link memories

And...

Dream together.

-m.

Saturday Syllables: Free Hearts

The heart wants what it wants... sometimes it aches while your mind denies the feeling. The Love series was written a couple years ago because there simply wasn't enough love in the world and I needed to see more in mine. 

Does your heart run free? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m. 

 

These little heartaches 

Remind me I'm yours

Not entirely.

Entirely your heart beats free

Away from mine 

A freedom I too enjoy

Until this beating grows

Into aches

To join yours.

~m

Wednesday Words: Balance & Resolve

Life can't break you unless you let it. Hold strong. I'm recovering from my day job  trauma; it didn't destroy me. It was enough turmoil to keep me from people & pursuing my passions such as photos & writing.... Have to find the balance for it all! 

This is one of my favorites. I rarely repost but Wednesday with Words sounded like fun. It's no Sunday for sure but fun nonetheless. Here's one from a year ago. I'll quote Matisse with a grin & say that I'll be working on a new series with photos & words soon. 

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m.

Unbroken ~ Will

(8-17-2015)

Standing.

Still.

I've found my balance

On my own.

Although I'm missing you,

I'm not missing anything.

A feeling reminds my heart 

Of your presence in it while

An ache reminds me

Of my need for freedom

And your need to be free without me. 

Resilient.

Sure of myself.

It's not bravado.

It's confidence. 

I know I'm capable.

Perfectly imperfect.

Tenacity.

Unlike a mask of weakness

Appears harsh, abrasive.

It's meant to last

When the masks crumble.

Sometimes I wonder if

It's because I'm not broken.

I used to think I was.

I wasn't. 

My resolve holds me firm.

My skeleton is lined with hope.

I heal.

I live with the scars. 

Functioning and whole 

Even when I'm missing... you.

~m.

Easy

People often ask me about Buddhism and answers. Last year was like hitting the cross in the road. It was rough and hard to guide others because I had to go through my steps again to find & maintain my gratitude for life. I know that the creator and universe did not intend for me to suffer by erratic thoughts & impulses so I persevered through my journey seeking to find my balance.

My Buddhist experience is that true self love and compassion does compete or make demands for someone to change. It is not lost or mad without validation. There's no jealously, mean spiritedness or any need to belittle others because a person that loves themselves would never harm others nor would they allow anyone to harm to others for amusement. Furthermore there is no retaliation in compassion when you don't get your way. You accept another's journey no matter what, even when they are on a path far different from yours. It isn't personally about you, there are simply things in the universe that can not be any other way.

The truth that I can not teach you and you must learn on your own is that life is quite easy when you let it happen. And you must let it happen. You can only control yourself and that's the easiest thing in the world... And yes sometimes you don't need to be in control. ;)

Here's a 300 about Control from my series about hair.

Do you try to control others choices? How?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Third Reason 

“Third Reason.”

When he says it I thought there were only two. But he continues to drop the words onto the floor by the desk. The wooden one I so carefully refinished last week when he was too busy to come home on time; the time between the appointments I canceled to make time for him. The damage is done because I don’t trust him to keep his word when all he does is spill them over something that he has no right to contradict me over. 

“Fourth Reason,” he says trying to capture my eyes which have too long been focused on the desk. 

The desk he helped me pick out that windy Tuesday when the rain was absolutely breath-taking last month. A month before that, he loved the way I looked and there were no reasons to doubt my choices. Even when they disagreed with his, there were no reasons. Reasons cut through my mind trying to disassemble my logic. Sharp with the potential to harm, much like the scissors resting on the edge of the desk. The edge closest to the corner where my right hand rests. I imagine the grip of the handle nestled cooly between my fingers. 

I was left handed as a child and my mother switched my grip. At times I fumble with my right hand correcting for the dominance of the left. But not today.

It’s a brave new world before us. Before he can get out the fifth reason. I slide my left hand over to my right toward the scissors. With a determined grip I reach up and cut off a piece of my hair. His words come to a halt.  

One inch. Two inches. Three inches. Then Four. 

There are no more reasons why I shouldn’t cut my hair. 

Fierce ~ Heart

It takes a fierce resolve to create because to do so carries much weight. To continue, to persevere is brave. For when you feel the inspiration you do not deny the urging of your muse and walk into the forest of boundless creativity once again until you are whole. 

For many months I've promised books and the universe found many ways to redirect me... until now.  Instead of the darker book, I am publishing my series of love notes/poems at the urging of those who wish to see a bit more light of heart in the world. It's not all awful & we are not ruled by our past. There are still reasons to be alive if you look for them. Love of life is one of the better reasons. 

Ah, romance is kind of like a mythological creature? Much like life it is what you see & make of it. One person's idea of romance is another's chore. It's silly but there's the thing: people want someone who will play pretend the way they do. Once again the poems are written about love personified & with that I'll quote Matisse. 

If you're interested buy a copy and check it out! The book will be up on Amazon in a couple of days. 

Here's another one from the book, A Heart Found.

Will you buy a copy? 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Aching palpitations,
Quakes and spasms, 

Can not stop my heart 

That beats fierce

And strong

In time with yours.

Surrounded by 
Charlatans

Willfully causing

Harm to my heart.

I maintain my strength,

My balance

And courage to

Persevere.

The wait for you
To arrive
Is worth

Every minute

Knowing that I 

Truly belong...

In your arms.

~m.

Teardrops ~ Dreams

Teardrops in this moment 

Remind me 

I'm yours in another

That has yet to happen. 

Growing weary of

Letting you go 

As much as you are of 

setting me free.

I wake from 

Dreams of 

Moments 

When we will be...

Together.

~ m.

 

Autonomy

 

You’re probably wondering why I am adamant about others living their lives as they wish and being themselves as much possible. Most people ask me this so I’m not offended if one more person wonders it. Look, I didn't take an interest in Buddhism to be led by anyone. You see, I wasn’t given a choice for a long time for who I could be. I wasn’t allowed to be myself. There were always older people telling me how to be and what to do. One of my friends was my age and he encouraged me to live for myself and do for myself but most of the time I couldn’t. The opportunity to find myself came after I lost everything. People lose interest when you are flawed or no longer meet their expectations. So once I stopped being perfect, then life really got fun.

 

The tats are something I wanted for years but couldn’t get until it didn’t matter anymore. The hair changes color and style because I couldn’t change it for so long. I’ve been dumped over coloring/cutting my hair before and I’ve been dumped over revealing my leg tattoo in the last year. You think: shallow men? I think: I’m better off without anyone who can’t see past my exterior. I love that I decided to pursue and do these things for myself and it doesn’t matter how it affects someone else.  

 

I think my biggest fear for a long time was never being myself and going after what I wanted. And now I can and do. So, it may appear that I am doing everyone the biggest injustice by not telling them how or what to do with their life or why. Maybe some are hurt that I refuse to impose my will upon them but in reality I am insisting that all of you decide what it is you want to do instead of what I expect of you. It is my intention to not treat others as I have been treated.  

 

Let me explain… none of my friends have converted to Buddhism since I identify with it’s philosophies, nor do I expect them to. I adore them as they are, but a couple have gotten closer to their faith as a result of my journey. To me I absolutely love that they have found spirituality regardless if it is the same way that I have found mine because it makes them happy.

 

Being alive is a great adventure or nothing at all… says the quote. Wouldn’t you rather decide what you want instead of being told? I know I would. 

 

Here’s an old one about being told what to do… 

Do you expect others to do as you say or do you believe & respect their autonomy?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Drill

(6-24-2010)

Get on your feet ladies! I said MOVE IT! THIS IS NOT YOUR MAMA’S HOUSE. I AM NOT YOUR MAMA! Soldiers when I say JUMP, you will say ‘how high’ Understood? When you address me, you will say “Yes, Sir.” If there is a “No, Sir” I expect a damn good reason for it. The Bottom line: There will be no bitching soldiers here. You are not bitches. Understood? I can’t hear you? Good! I’m glad we understand ourselves. Boys we are just getting started. This is phase one.  And it’s my duty to prepare you for the next step. Are you ready? YES SIR! That’s what I like to hear! Get down and give me fifty. Wait. Make that an even hundred.  One. Two. Three. Four. Keep em coming. Third soldier on the left flank, step it up. This isn’t a holiday. Get after it. Hustle.  Soldiers I don’t feel your enthusiasm for my drills. Let’s add another hundred to the repertoire. You can and will jump up higher! Gentlemen, would you like to know what happens next?  If you successfully make through all of your training, you will be among the finest and most decorated men. That’s right hard work pays off. Right flank twelfth back two over, get that head up and keep moving. I expect results. You will deliver results to me.  I guarantee all of my soldiers are duty ready by the time they leave my command. And you will have that guarantee. Now get back on your feet and give me twenty-five miles. The road is down the way. And when you get to the end, turn your asses around and give me another twenty-five back. There will be more when you get back. Don’t think about it soldiers. MOVE. I said, GO! HUSTLE! 

Play

Musicians are interesting guys to date and I've had my heart broken by two. I actually know a few and I'm good friends with them but only because I never dated them. Recently, I had a chance to hang out with a musician. And yeah he just ended up being not what he pretended to be. So... C'est La Vie and goodbye to the music man. 

Which brings me to an interesting story... It was inspired by a musician friend and to this day he doesn't forgive me for it. He's a nice guy and I won't date him but my theory was simple: what happens if one of the girls you cheated on is still sore about it? Ha.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

How to Kill A Rock Star

(6-10-09)

“WHY WON’T YOU DIE?!” I shriek as I raise my head up out of pure frustration and release my grip around his neck. I just wasted the last 15 minutes trying to strangle this bastard with a handful of guitar strings to no such luck. The game is getting old now. I just want this bastard dead. There are tiny pieces of metal embedded in the gaping circular wound wrapped around his neck, which looks a lot more like a rug burn than a strangulation scar. “YOU FUCKER.” I kick the chair over, breaking as it falls and his limp body sprawls out onto the floor, still alive. At least he’s unconscious.

“I never did care for your music anyway,” was the last thing I said to this SOB before he passed out from the drugs I slipped in his whiskey. Out cold before I ever went to work. The look on his face was complete shock as he went down with a bang. If you’ve seen one, then you’ve seen ‘em all, rockers and their poison. Johnny Black was no exception. He took it like a pro too. Johnny Black. Black labeled - Just how he liked his whiskey. Black heart - How he liked to treat his women. Breaking hearts every show, every town. Parading around with his long line of women to establish his rock star legacy. Quite honestly he’s made a fool of me for the very last time. Filth. Trash. Scum. Methodically I look around the room. Guitar strings will do nicely, after I make him suffer a little.

Gently I rub his face as he comes to. “Johnny, honey, you can go ahead and scream if you want, but no one will hear you. That backup band of yours is having a ball out on stage right now.” The noise from the crowd and music seeps through the dressing room walls and fills the quiet spaces. He smiles and raises his head. I run my fingers through his dark tousled hair and pull, turning his eyes toward mine. He knows I’ve tied him up. He can’t struggle. I pull out my knife and smile. Wink at him one last time before I cut off a finger. He takes it. “Hard to play guitar without one of those?” I question. Silence and a smile.

Several fingers later, he’s far less cooperative. “Johnny, I’m gonna cut out your tongue.” I lean in and whisper in his ear. Oh and that’s it. He’s struggling now. His screams release into a sea of din for no one but me to enjoy. Such beautiful music his pain produces. I grab his hair and brace his head. I put my blade to his neck. He stops and gives me his full attention. I slice in and let some blood spill out this artificial wound. Calm. Good. Now the fun begins…

Awake. Out of options, he lays before me on the floor, gagged and tied down where I control his fate. I bend down and straddle his torso as I stick him with my sharp dagger. It finds a home in his gut, sweetly ever so gently entering without the least resistance. Twisting and tugging my tool upward I make my way up his belly to the base of his rib cage and shove. He releases an agonizing scream of pain that spills out past the crimson gag. Damn! There’s a knock at the door. At this moment this bastard dying is the least of my problems. “Almost more trouble than this is worth,” are my thoughts as I wipe the blood clean from my dagger and slowly rise to attend to this visitor. Probably just another groupie. These girls never quit. “Fucker!” As I kick his struggling body before I walk towards the door. He grunts, but no words can escape. Tear open my blouse and show some skin in case it’s his manager interrupting.

Before I get to the door. “Johnny , you’re on again in five. Get it together,” barks the stage hand as he walks away. This is yet another stop in another seedy roadside bar. Tonight it’s Hot House, Louisiana, which is an insignificant blip so small they’d consider it a mistake and it’s most definitely off the maps. Considering which, nobody would notice if you disappeared out here in the middle of no where. He’s due out onstage at 11 pm. for the second show to close out the night. Step back to the scene of my crime. He watches me as I move closer. Tears roll down his cheek. He’s got five minutes left to live. No more games. This ends now. I pull out my revolver to finish the job.

Band strikes up the same old song as I leave out the back. Exit stage door left. Out into the dark night once again. Back to the heartbreak hotel to mend what’s left of my broken heart.

Forever ~ Curious

An infinity of curiousity 

threatens to confound me 

eternally 

when I imagine 

what life 

could ever be like 

without 

looking in your eyes.

~m.

P.S.

P.S. is an afterthought. A last minute unrelated detail that is minutely related. Yet we think to add it. So the book... You want a newer story? How about an older piece. Here's one of the lost love notes or rather a love letter. It didn't fit the tone of my work initially but needless to say it's now a favorite. Love like our passions of creativity and lust don't sleep unless we let them.

Have you written a love letter before?

Enjoy

Kisses, m,

PPS: Its not just words. I won't be releasing the new book until... I will simply release it when it's time! :)

Awake

(9-29-09)

My love, my angel, watching you sleep is possibly the most exquisite sight these humble eyes have had the pleasure to behold. The sun as it weakly finds its way into our room illuminates your skin and dances in your hair. I can not count the ways I am blessed to wake next to such a wondrous creature each day. The soft sounds that escape your lips as you linger in dreams are pleasant music to ears that had only known din before your song. The dreams in your mind surely can not capture half of my devotion for you. Watching you dream is torment to my soul. I can only envy these thoughts that take you away from me. As while you are away, I can only send you my love. Such peace, my love, is in your body at rest. Still eyes, quiet mouth, and calm breathing. My mind is in eager anticipation to embrace you, possess you in this tranquil moment.

What is in your thoughts that you slumber so delicately before these eyes of mine? Is it your lover in dreams that keeps us apart in such cruelty at night? Dreams provide no definition in reality. Could it be true that my only love prefers the company of such phantoms over waking into my genuine arms? Cruel mischief is at hand, for these thoughts take you where I can not follow. I curse the night and the need for slumber. Angel, dream no more. Leave my side no longer. Dreams are foul, cursed distractions that only filled my mind with torment and yours with peaceful joy. Do I dare to believe you dream of me, as I am here waking and watching as your humble servant without the least bit of hesitation. Darling, how it would be heaven if only you could draw me into your mind. We could be alive in a world that knows nothing of boundaries. To embrace every last bit of your soul, eternally. Ah, but I am denied such an unearthly pleasure. Star-crossed lovers must endure eternities apart, and weak fool that I am, mere hours are unbearable. Jealous of a fantasy world that I can not compete with and lost in my own false imaginings of what it truly means when you are there. Angel wake soon for this madness threatens to take hold. Wake again and save me once more.

Oh, but it is a wonder for you to wake and grace the world with your beautiful smile. Thank heaven for that smile that brightens even my darkest hour. Your smile challenges the shadows before me and lays waste to the despair that is determined to pull me under. My darling, don’t let me down. Awake. My soul wages war on these demons in your absence. It is only whole once more when the dreams restore you to this life. I am yours, devoted and true. I will wait through countless nights and battle the phantoms of your mind. The day I leave is when time runs out without your return and the world comes down before me. Wake my love. Wake.

Let's Get Coffee Sometime?

Want to get coffee sometime? It's the simplest of things to say. Ok ladies, cause I couldn't leave you hanging! I know it's not Sex & The City insider trading dating info on men but a little suggest that I've used in the past... Coffee! 

It is a very great no pressure way to be friendly with anyone. Great convo starter or a way to just hang with a friend or family member. It was bequeathed to moi from a guy friend a long time ago. I told you I'd make an epic ass of myself throwing myself at a man. So I just don't. But I know a few great guys who look out for me sometimes & toss me some great pointers. 

Although I'm awkward at times... I do know how to be friendly. I'm betting all of you do too! Sexual innuendos are not flirting. Talking about conquests with other people is off putting. But... Offering someone coffee is a very cool ass ice breaker to be friends or even more. This doll wants you all to be happy! Good Luck & Godspeed! 

Here's a newer 300 about coffee! 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Coffee

 

I could’ve stayed in drinking coffee.

But I didn’t. 

We could’ve met somewhere else.

But we didn’t. 

 

My mind spinning and filling my present

With too many thoughts 

Of the unknown.

Waiting for a moment.

Looking a diversion.

It’s unknown if it will arrive

 

My eyes search for a place to calm myself.

Armed with a book and a cup of blackness for company.

While the words weave and the plot thickens, I sip.

Warm coffee to comfort my heart. 

Tears that only fall long enough to wipe away

When I dream of memories too long passed.

 

Until I catch a glimpse of familiar.

A smile less than three feet away is before me

In the absence of my attention. 

Cream colored coffee 

That is nothing but the opposite of the blackness of mine.

A look that lasts longer than it should. 

I wish it were for me. 
When he looks away quick

I know it’s not. 

 

I wish I knew his habits yet I don’t.

Flick of the wrist. 

The moonlight between the trees shifts.

Slowly the fire burns white into red.

Smoke escapes his mouth.

Runs down to the floor. 

 

Like the smoke 

Common words drop from our mouths

Fall to the floor

Walk the room and return.

Coming and going.

Far enough. 

Few enough. 

Hardly any distance inbetween. 

 

Between our drinks there’s everything. 

No comfort in silence. 

Silence that seems to dance in the background

As the unspoken words linger 

On the tips of our tongues ready to be spoken.

A dance that only moves between speakers.

 

Strangers keeping company

Cold among the emptiness of the space.

Invisible arms wrap me up. 

Warmth and company. 

I couldn’t have asked for more. 

A feeling of belonging that is lost the moment

I leave him and walk out the door.