I don’t know when it started, like the specific date when I awoke and realized I aint really living, but I remember feeling trapped. Stuck, in a rut because I have no butt. Look, we all know what it’s like living paycheck to paycheck with maybe $20 or $30 left over, and that’s if budgeting… Read More All My Love is for You: A Dedication to Museums.
If I’m not sad enough, it never taste as delicious. This has been a proven scientific fact. The amount of sadness equates to the amount of love I need to put into my soup, that’s called balance my friend. This recipe came from a Pinterest page about a year or so ago. I was working… Read More Thai coconut milk&red curry soup.
I play on the notion that there’s a possibility something more can be created. Something more can be given. Something else can be tasted. Call me a fool for falling for my lover, it phases me none. The only thing we ever want to accomplish is to feel alive, to feel that gust of wind… Read More Letters to My Lover – Diary entry: 11/3/17
Artwork:https://instagram.com/p/wzbx6azZS9/ I became obsessed with a lover, once. There a few that may read this and think this is about them. My lover knows exactly who he is. There’s no clearer portrayal of him than the one I paint constantly. I became so obsessed with my lover that the only way I could have him… Read More A Writer’s Obsession
Make sure the man knows your worth and can appreciate it. You can never make a man see your worth. He has to already recognize it. Do you understand? You will blossom as a woman when you get a man who does. Trust me on this. You will blossom. And you wanna know how a… Read More My only womanly advice I can offer
Some mornings waking up next to you would fulfill my ultimate dream of waking up in a field of flowers. The softness of your skin imitating flower petals and the warmth of morning kisses remind me of the sun. The perfections of the morning glory you would give me even though my face is still… Read More Diary entry: 12/4/17
It’s painful. The aching and crying and the drinking. The drinking is the worst. I crave it at this point. It helps numb the heart. Helps with moving through each day. My favorite is a sweet but somewhat dry red wine. Pair that with some stuffed grape leaves, drenched in olive oil and lounge seductively… Read More Diary entry: 11/30/17
It’s hard not write about you. To you. For you. When you’re all I think about. My ears are ringing in hopes that my name is leaving your lips. Nothing more than a fantasy at this point. That’s all I do sometimes during the busy hours of the day, my mind fills itself with images… Read More Diary entry: 12/1/17
If we continue on, you understand what we become? Resorting to only the physical will just be an addition to this. The excitement that rushes through me in wait of experiencing you in that light. You’re already so beautiful and raw, to be able to have so much more, I am in awe of what… Read More Diary entry: 11/28/17
I’ll always wonder what it must be like to be with someone like you. In totality. In completeness. To belong. To become. To fulfill you and only you. To sleep across your chest at night and not have worries of separation over the next few days, I’ll always wonder. I fill with intense jealousy at… Read More Diary entry: 11/30/17
Model information: https://www.instagram.com/p/BVdAcyDFgU9/ Burying my face in the bodies of other lovers in my futile attempts to forget you. Giving them pieces of me that are undeniably meant for you. I only want to forget the sensation but you are embedded in my flesh. Embedded in the memory of me. I wear you. Taste you.… Read More The misery of absence
I’ve been writing and then I’ve been stopping. Stop and go, stop and go. Stopping because I start to question what I’m writing instead of just feeling the words. So I’ve gotten scared to share and just been keeping it to myself. I’ve been writing to reach someone, anyone but I don’t feel that I… Read More I think more than i should and that’s what’s stopping me…
Sunday morning blues. I dreamed of you last night. Reminiscing on conversations between breast and lips. I forget the actual language you speak, it’s on the tip of my tongue the way you wore me that night. It’s some island in the Caribbean, but the importance is irrelevant at this time. The bed is empty… Read More Diary entry: 9/23/17
Think it was a quarter to three this morning, trying to get ready for work, the usual routine to begin a Saturday. Body barely able to maneuver itself from the left side of the bed. The Tiffany grey velvet chaise in the corner sitting there appearing lonely, empty. The lighting was giving it a soft… Read More Love letters from the Tormented
It’s been jazz all evening. The skies changed and the tempo stayed the same. Deep melodies playing from a third story apartment with the balcony doors wide open. I guess I’m tryna erase a few memories tonight. Do you remember that movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Certain scenes replay themselves and I can’t… Read More Diary entry: 10/16/17