In my more quiet moments (and let’s be honest, I have a lot of those) I feel the desperation.
In my more quiet moments (and let’s be honest, I have a lot of those) I feel the desperation. It’s creeping in along the edges, brushing it’s feather-like fingers along my spine. It’s winding its way up to my throat and circling gently. It makes my skin ache and my body feel so heavy. It makes me question my words, my choices. It makes me want to be reckless: To look the thing right in the eye and cry out into the world for what I need. And then accept it from the first man who comes along. That last impulse must be ignored at all costs, of course. But, it starts to feel like anything would be better than keeping this vigil for another day.A girl needs to be put to use.Come and whisper to me that you have what I need, that you’ll take the ache away. Hold me down and make my flesh sting. Call me a good girl. Tell me you plan to do filthy things to my pretty little mouth. Use me hard and for hours. Play with me and call me your favorite toy. Make me blush and moan and give thanks.Give me the gift of no sight and safety and an empty mind. I crave the stillness. I can no longer find it on my own. Admitting that is the hardest part. This is the price I pay for what has been awakened in me.I need you. -- source link