Red Ink

I wasn’t always a good person. What is good anyway, right? I tried to do unto others as I’d do for myself, but the lines are blurred. Considering I’ve slit my arms, self-sabotaged, smoked tobacco into my lungs, driven a car too fast, had dreams of thoughts of suicide almost all my life, I’d say it’s rather odd to want that for someone else. Guess I am self-destructive and a bit of a masochist. I have to want better for others than I expect for myself. I first cried for Mother Nature when I was six and dreamed of saving the rainforests that face deforestation. I allowed my body to be used for the satisfaction of a man, and all I got in return was a life stuck in corporate America and daddy issues. I always wanted too much from the world and received its cold, judgmental stares. I ruined marriages and families because I craved to be loved so badly that I needed the touch of any man tempted enough to make their catch. How my beauty never tempted you though would be my greatest challenge. I know you’re meant for me because you see past the circles of hurt and see a person beneath just the stories that are told of them. You could look at me and say she’s a home wrecker, a tramp, and she ain’t meant for much more than another night’s pleasure. And yet you would never regard me that way. You wanted me to not give in and make a man earn myself. You earned my body, pushed me to a limit of insanity. Hormones raging inside me as I craved you inside me, holding me, your lips on my body I wanted more than anything I’ve ever wanted. All to teach me to value my time with someone beyond sex so that when you touched me, it was special, it meant something. I didn’t understand that feeling. I guess I assumed a hand always felt like a hand does on my thigh, a kiss is all the same when it’s a kiss. Indeed, I was mistaken because when you touch me now, lightning erupts throughout my body, and when I kiss you, I leak through my thong. I am labeled, so I  became a label, but you never seem to see the label or read the warning. You were just always there. Giving me your attention even when you didn’t understand, being supportive even when you say so little. To have you inside me now feels better than any drug in the world. To have your head on my lap makes me feel comforted beyond what any soft blanket or warm cup of hot chocolate could provide on a freezing wintery day. To know I have you always makes me want a life into my eighties. To have you beside me makes me want to build a home and a future. To sit even in silence for hours just being in your presence makes the pain of my life disappear. And as you grow deeper into my heart, I mourn a world without you. I sob at the idea of you no longer wanting me. It’s silly looking at the future, so I focus on the present I have with you now. And as my heart yearns for you, my body craves the need of you inside me. My knees beg to be on the floor, and my mouth is filled with things beyond words. My love is endless for you and my cravings for you persistent. I’ll be there after all long the days for you waiting on my knee ready to ease your pains. I’ll nourish you inside and out, fill your stomach and drain your cock. I’ll encourage every endeavor you choose to go down and hold you through every nighttime. I am your sun and your moon, teaching you to see more of the world as you release the pressure of my world. You’ve changed me forever, I didn’t quite notice whether it was day one just sitting with you for hours. Or day forty-five when you laid your head on my stomach and fell asleep wrapped around me. I’ve grown a love for you I haven’t experienced much in this my lifetime. Funny how twenty-six years led to this moment of finding you hidden in the hills of Vermont. I’ve never been the same again. Whether I have you only now or for a lifetime, you’ll be a part of the woman I’ve become forever. Your presence is permanent, and your name is in red ink.