💋HERS💋   His fingers don’t just touch— They decide.   They map me like they already know where I soften, where I shiver, where my breath betrays me before my mouth ever will.   I feel them before they arrive— that pause, that hovering heat, that delicious cruelty of waiting while my body...

The myriad of pages burning contain my written sorrows and scribed pain, they leave nothing in their dark wake but bitter betrayal and lingering shame.   Memories torment me time and again tears that fall without pause or refrain, leaving their...

sleep... we parted company...for the most part  a while ago snatches of nap here and there but a full night's sleep? ...very rare disrupted by dreams and thoughts as I stare at the ceiling  and toss   maybe it's only my imagination  (but I somehow doubt it) the world feels... heavier? more dense? and...