trying on a metaphor
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@goddessonsteriods
Tear you apart and still call me yours. I have chaos nestling inside the tender of my mouth and wounding in the flesh of my palm. I will cut and cut and cut. You deserve it. I want to. How could you throw my love in the gutters that look to the stars? You’ll still love me. I know this. So call me yours just to make sure my heart still beats for you beloved.
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I always knew I was meant to ache and groan in places I could never be touched. I always knew I was couldn’t ask for mercy, to be someone else or anything less. But please God(s) I’m tired of being a wound, I’m tired of bleeding just cause that’s what I know. I do not want to be this hurt anymore.
You think you can hurt me? My younger sister just complimented me, she told me I am the most beautiful girl she knows. Ladies and gentlemen, I am indestructible.
Lilith did not die on the cross for my redemption just for me to beg for the love of men and the validation of the world. I need to do better.
It’s takes a while to realise life is all about coming home to yourself. It’s opening that door over and over no matter how long it’s been. No matter how far you have strayed. Sometimes it takes finding your home dusty and unattended, deserted and abandoned, to comprehend how much it all matters. That being the tether that binds you is your only salvation.
You are always welcome, you are always wanted. I am wait for you. So come home beloved, come to the walls that are familiar and honest. Do not fear the dark and the quiet, there’s nothing to be afraid of, they are yours. They are your friends. Come battered, come tired, come broken and tear stained. Come whole and happy. In whatever state, open that door, cross that threshold. Come home to me.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Existential crisis 'Will I make him better? Should I make him worse?'. Sings in I'm just a girl.
He made me worse. So I turned on him. I chained then dragged him through the hell we built.
In another life, I pray to my Gods ‘I dont want to be a poet. Let me not be a yearner, let me not be the one who thinks and compromises. Please, let me not be a poet. Let me not be the one who thinks of them, wonders of their feelings and past. Let me not wish to be who I am not, who I will not be. Let me not want more of them, more tenderness, more devotion, more and completeness of themselves and their love. Please my Higher Powere, let me not be a poet. Let me leave this person of myself in this life. Not the next. I have been both a poet and a woman. A first born daughter to add on to. Carrying my mother’s what ifs and torment in the very moving of my body. I have endured the brief coldness of a love, the cold shoulder turend. The passing, yet enormous moment of departure. So please. Please, don’t leave me a poet.
The God’s then ask: ‘Who made you want to be different from what you have always been?’.
I hide my face and weep.
Existential crisis 'Will I make him better? Should I make him worse?'. Sings in I'm just a girl.
How disgusting it is to be seen wanting. How revolting to find myself lacking. Needing. To pry my chest open and have my tender insides exposed, vulnerable. In order to ask, to welcome something that I desire. What if I can't have this? What if I'm denied? What if I'm starved? Longing and restless, as I've always been, but now with witnesses. Sickening
Most frighteningly important, what if I do have it? What if I do have a moment of satiety? What if I am granted my most coveted of desires? All of it to be ripped away? Once grown comfortable and complacent, once lulled to a state of peace and rest, all to be unsettled and unraveled? This is the true horror.
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I just need to die a violent death and be reborn as the light that could have saved me.( whatever that means)
Leave matching my freak, is someone going to walk with me through the abyss of our subconscious and souls, unravel our habits and beliefs, embrace our scars and traumas. Learn how to live and love ourselves independently and together? Is someone gonna match thissss?
Turns out I wasn't miserable. I just needed to talk a walk in the woods and flirt shamelessly with men I'm not interested in. Life's good 😗👍.
Just another day of feeling inherently wrong and unlovable. But that's the human experience. Right? It's perfectly normal and everyone had felt this before... right?
Anaïs Nin, from The Voice
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So I just listened to a podcast on Paradise Lost about the fall of Lucifer and humanity (on Spotify the channel is Literature and History) and basically I found an intriguing theme, among many. Lucifer was at the very core of his being, curious , he wondered why the Almighty was retreating to His mountain without ever telling them anything anymore, and why The Son of God surrounded himself in such mystery. He not only felt sidelined, but also wondered if he's sole purpose was to serve. He wanted more and was curious of what he could do and the lengths he could go and heights he could rise to. He was simply not satisfied with the way things had been since his creation, meant to serve the Almighty without question, blindly and devotedly. Despite his hubris, maniac ambition and unrelenting hunger for power, he was just curious this was the spark that ignited his fall.
Then I started thinking, how many instances in history have inventive and curious minds been punished? When great inventors and scientists went against the common way of thinking or challenged a certain belief, weren't they punished in one way or another?
Despite Lucifer Morningstar having his faults and errors, I can't help but relate to him and even feel some kind of... pity. Was he wrong to question his purpose? Was he wrong to want more than what he was told he was created for? Was he wrong to question the Almighty? Did he deserve such a harsh fate?
Share your thoughts.
Looking back on this now I wonder how curiosity is punished beyond religion and academia. For instance normal day life, adults and youngins, teachers and students, governments and their people. Basically any form of authority established, how many times has a 'Why?' turned violent? Turned into 'disrespect, rude, defiant, haughty, argumentative, talking back' and so much more. When to question an order turns into an argument. We are beings of free will and thought, is it wrong to not adhere, to not follow blindly. To think at the back of our minds 'Why should I do things so thoughtlessly?'. To want to know the reasons for and god forbid want to be respected. I find it exhausting to constantly see labels of defiance and rebellious whenever someone question authority. It's oppressive and primitive. It makes of people bullies.
How disgusting it is to be seen wanting. How revolting to find myself lacking. Needing. To pry my chest open and have my tender insides exposed, vulnerable. In order to ask, to welcome something that I desire. What if I can't have this? What if I'm denied? What if I'm starved? Longing and restless, as I've always been, but now with witnesses. Sickening
