For My Characters

*introducing myself to the guards who caught me* seized to meet you

kicking my feet and giggling like a schoolgirl in love to myself while muttering "i'm going to kill you. i'm going to fucking kill you"

i’m a lover. AND a biter

resurrected dead wife watching her own montage: wow I looked so hot in that

I say shit like "If my memory serves me" knowing damn well it serves the dark lord

men who yearn. men who don't understand their feelings for you other than that they're drawn to you, need to orbit you like you're their sun. men who lay awake at night and think about every wayward glance, every accidental touch, every shared laugh over something and nothing at all. men who tie themselves in knots and wring their hands over how they long to touch you, taste you, breathe you. men who unabashedly drive themselves to ruin trying to find the right way, the right time, the right place to spill every secret, every desire, every bottled-up emotion and hope you'll feel the same.

touch-starvation needs to be written with emphasis on the starving part. you are hungry to be touched. so hungry that even the very taste of it makes you nauseous. it has been long since anything has ever touched you, ever fed you - that your body has grown more used to that gnawing emptiness more than anything else. it's better for you to be held, to eat but it makes you sick to try. you know

Diva down