Ink Stained Soul…

Aries fire is sizzling under my skin like tentacles of fury. Treason bubbling under the surface, making my shadows want to show you just how restrained I stay — until I decide not to.

My softness is a choice. My light is the beauty I love to play in.

My shadows are the parts that hold my armor. I don’t need you to see it, but know it lives there. Crimson, violet, and hues of black that dance together.

Forcing me out of my softness with behavior you would never swallow but expect me to… well, that’s not how you play with a Queen such as I.

After all this time,
I finally gave myself permission.

Permission to open the cages around my heart.
To see how another gaze could make me smile.
How easy banter back and forth
can come just as natural as breathing.

To let myself feel alive —
by choice.

New hands can find those same places
without the trace of hurt following their path.

And so, I allowed them
the opportunity.

There is a last time for everything.

The last dinner at the table as a child.
The last game outside with your friends.
The last time you see your grandparents.

The last time you hold your child —
the last time you hear that little voice,
that music.

The last time you danced around freely.
The last snowfall.

The last kiss with the person you love.
The last night wrapped in passion.

The last night you cried over someone.
The last time you let someone put value on you.
The last time you believed in them.
The last time you sacrificed yourself.

The last time you see them through rose-colored glasses.
The last time they break you.

Last chance.
Last hope.
Last call.

And at the end —
with your last breath —
the last memory of the life you actually led.

Of all the betrayals I have endured,
the worst was me betraying me.

A year ago I made a vow —
to rebuild,
to come home to myself,
to remember every single strike against me
and how I let myself become small.

I am done betraying myself.

Deep scars across my chest,
carving into my heart.
Evidence sent.
I was not seeking the betrayal
of your quiet treason.
The wounds heal
but their darkness hunts me down.
Long suffering — a reminder how ghosts
haunt me at night,
phantoms that dance across the picture
my soul etched in my heart.

The echoes of longing still carry your name. They have for so long that I fear they always will — and dread the day they finally stop.

One question twists in my heart, a pain that should never have to be felt: Why couldn’t you love yourself enough to love me?

In the way you carry yourself, you look like a man waiting for death, not trying to live a life.

I got moments when I was promised lifetimes.

Knowing my worth is the only reason I never asked you to love me. It should have been as easy as breathing.

He didn’t save me. I did that.

He held the door open. I chose to walk through.

Seen. Recognized.

Before him, I braced. Now —

I can’t think when he touches me. I melt. I burn. Filled with a hunger that only he can provide. My body becomes safe to feel everything in this man. Pleasure I can’t comprehend. Need. Depths of passion.

I don’t come yet. But I become. And that’s the passion my body finally feels safe enough to have.

In his arms I’m no longer starved of pleasure.

Every touch. Every thrust. Filling me in ways no human can fathom.

A wild inferno takes place. My moans and sighs sound like echoes from a distance. A volcano surrounded by a hurricane — and in the center, an island of safety in his arms.

Alive. I become alive in ways that only we can create.

My entire life, I never knew with certainty that I could stand on my own. I didn’t know if I was truly able to live without someone lying next to me, helping me make choices, keeping me safe, or being my partner in every way. It’s silly now to think about, because I have never once really had that.

I had cages.

Someone pointing out my deepest hurts and flaws. Comparing me to others. Making me feel less than and incapable.

What I have found in the past several years is that I am a creative builder. I can take nothing and make it beautiful. I can run a home, raise children, educate, find joy, reach goals, offer support, build my own legacy, and create something that will last. My pain can become art. My words matter. My heart is unrivaled. I learned I am exactly who I always believed I was, even when so many tried to kill that light inside of me.

Now I want to experience what all this can do with the right partner walking beside me.

There are places we never hide. 
Music and flesh. 
Souls that speak everything without saying words. 
A language so sacred there is no place to hide its truth. 

Vibrations course through us so intricately 
that our souls dance and our bodies follow. 

The world would be so dark without music. 
Without touching each other. 
Without you and I. 

From stardust to silver threads. 
Moonlight and sunlight. 
Warm and glowing. 
Power and softness. 

A dance ancient and sacred. 
That is us.

We know the famous tale. 
Wait long enough 
and they’ll see you. 
Choose you. 

It starves. 
It’s familiar. 

But no one tells the tale that follows. 
The one born in horror. 

The one who never believed 
you’d leave. 

This is the one that breaks bones. 
The one who waited. 
The one who loved with both hands. 
Hope on their skin. 
Loyalty in their blood. 

Rare. 
Life-changing. 

Lose that 
and a man walks the earth 
already dead. 

Lose someone who never chose you 
and you learn to choose yourself. 
You rise. 

While they 
begin to disappear.