As The World Turns

“Hello” I say into the phone, not bothering to look at caller ID.

“E-mail sucks” he almost groans.  I smile, he’s correct, I haven’t heard from him in hours.  I was getting nervous, to be honest.

I tell him as much, we chat and laugh and smile.  We are busy, we cannot stay on the phone long.  His world, my world; going one hundred miles a minute parallel to each other, intersecting on rare wonderful occasions.  The moments we live for.

I’m back to my coffee and patients, he’s back to his reports.  The world keeps turning, paying no mind to shit e-mail or moon crossed lovers who can’t go a few hours without conversation.  The world keeps mourning celebrities, abusing their own children and pampering their pets.  The world keeps advancing and falling apart at equal speed.

And me, I just want coffee, I want time with him alone, away from this world, in Neverland or on the moon, either will do.  I’m also open to other suggestions.



Wonderful Hurt

She loves him more than she knows she probably should

She couldn’t stop now, and she wouldn’t even if she could

Sure, at times the pain cuts deep and draws blood

A price she willingly pays for this love

When it hurts, it’s in the most wonderful way

Her smile starts small, then consumes her face

She prays she hurts this way for eternity

Sometimes you need the pain to be happy



A Love Story ~ In The Beginning


In the beginning

She was apprehensive, almost standoffish.  I guess he didn’t notice or didn’t care.  He had his very own agenda which had not one single thing to do with her.  Their bad attitudes just happened to collide.

In the beginning

She thought him to be ignorant, but not in the way that one is not intelligent, she knew he was intelligent.  In the way that one is new to something.  Which he was.  He was new to this world which she was so completely consumed within.  She was both bothered and endeared with his newness.  The endearment stuck.

In the beginning

She tried every one of her tricks to push him away.  He either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care.  Her heart skipped a beat each and every time he returned.  He seemed to both notice and care because he never stayed gone for very long. This delighted her very much.  An emotion she wasn’t much accustomed to.

In the beginning

She knew they were in big trouble.



Yesterday my phone chimed, alerting me of breaking news. “Prince dead at 57”, was the simple statement.

Fade to purple as my mind is filled with thousands upon thousands of song lyrics.

Oh yes I know we have lost too many great musicians this year.  All of them tragic and tremendous losses to the music industry.  Each an icon in their own right.  And now, The Purple One has been taken from us.  My heart is heavy indeed.

For myself Prince’s music was indeed The Revolution.  The sexual revolution.  Up until I heard his Controversy album I liked music, some forms of course better than others; but still, music was for listening to, maybe on occasion dancing.  You see I was a teenager in the Shaun Cassidy, Andy Gibb time frame, and for a kid like me that was fine for Teen magazines but not really exciting musically.  I was a bit of a rebel and to my parent’s dismay I would sneak in some Queen and Alice Cooper.  Still not the same, still just music for me.  I hadn’t found “my” grove yet.

Then one Friday night I was staying at a friends house and her sister played Prince’s Controversy Album.  That was it for me.  It took me someplace music had never taken me before.  I felt it.  I felt it in my nipples and in my thighs. I felt it tingling in my fingers and glinting in my eyes.  It made me bite my lip and catch my breath.  Music did this to me.  It was wonderful.  I really didn’t understand the idea of sexy, but I knew that this is what it felt like.  This music made me feel sexy, and I liked it.  That weekend I bought myself a copy of  1999 and played it every chance I could.  I was hooked.  I had no idea who Prince was, but I was hooked.

So of course when Purple Rain the movie came out I had to go see it.  I was very surprised by the appearance of Prince.  He was very petite and almost feminine.  Oh, but he had that soft shy sexy smile that grabbed you and didn’t let you go.  You wanted to hold him, comfort him, and do naughty things with him all at the same time.  It was a very odd feeling.

All of my boy friends were very manly and in fact thought Prince’s music was too feminine.  I think it was a stigmata at that point in time.  I think it was fear.  For me, it was a sexual revolution.  Finding my own grove through music.  A grove that awakened my sexy side, my inquisitive side, my musical style.  It was a game changer for me, to feel the music.  I am forever indebted to Prince and his Revolution.

Thank You Prince, you will be missed.



Easy Breezy

I can feel how wet I am

as I think of him

as a spring breeze blows up my dress

God I love spring breezes

I love thinking of him

how he makes my panties wet

and my nipples stand erect under this light dress

I lean back and spread my legs

the warm breeze rushes in

I fantasize it’s him

Some young punk passes me by

he dares to look me in the eye

I giggle

throw a wink his way

He keeps walking, unamused

he has nothing to say

I lean back

letting the breeze have it’s way with me

it’s spring,

it’s gorgeous,

and this is my fantasy

Traditionally Speaking


Kicking tradition to the side of road

he sings me a tune that I really should know

he changes the words to suit his own needs

I smile and giggle, as we do what we please

The week has been long, the month longer still

yet sitting here next to him, I’ve got time just kill

Throwing tradition right out the window

I tell him I love him, he says “yep, I know”

Traditionally speaking we don’t stand a chance

but neither of us care about pomp and circumstance

We do it Our way, rituals and customs thrown out

Each day a new adventure

because that’s what WE are about



Dream Lovers

A long (but not) forgotten lover joined my dream without invitation Friday evening.

I was initially displeased to see his face.  Which is odd, as I’m generally pleased to see his face.  Friday night however, he didn’t belong.  He was uninvited, and moreover, unwelcome.  I said as much to the invited guest in my dream.  In fact he is the one who alerted me of “his” presence.  Which was crazy weird, since they don’t know each other.  But hey, a dream is a dream.

My invited guest said “hey, look who is here”, I looked and said “what is he doing here?”  to which my guest replied “I don’t know, this is your dream”, he had a decent point, even my dream-self thought so and rolled her eyes at him.  So I walked over to said uninvited guest, who even thought he did not “belong” in my dream.  I started to ask him “what are you doing here?”, but just as I opened my mouth, he asked me “what are you doing here?”, which was crazy, because it’s my fucking dream!

At this point in my dream I hear the very familiar voice of a mutual friend of mine and said uninvited guest, she chimes in “oh, for goodness sake, both of you get over yourselves and hug already!”  We both (he and I) look over at her (here I will interject that she is a lifelong dear friend of mine, whom he slept with after our breakup) and we say in harmony “what are you doing here?”  She laughs, and I will add she has one of the most beautiful laughs of anyone I know, and says “I need a beer”!  Did I mention, I’m completely in love with her, in the way you can love only a lifelong friend.

I awkwardly hug my uninvited guest, I hug my dear friend even harder and leave those two to drink a beer.  I turn back to my invited guest, kiss him passionately, and ask, “does this seem really weird to you?” he replies “Baby, it’s your dream, I’m just glad I belong here.”  I’m glad he knows he belongs here.  In my dreams and in my life.


In a Galaxy far, far away

Weekends Suck!

He and I are in two different galaxies

I’m going to punch the next person who says

TGIF to me

They don’t know

they don’t understand the pain it brings

how lonely Saturday and Sunday can be

how I long for Monday morning alarm clock rings

The sun is shinning and it’s 70 degrees

but my mind is in a far, far away galaxy

A Love Story 04152016

The first time he saw me naked he commented about a tiny freckle on the outside of my knee.

Who notices freckles on knees?

He does, I don’t, or rather didn’t.

I didn’t notice it, had no idea what he was talking about.  He’s crazy.

The other morning as I was applying a generous amount of morning body lotion, I rubbed over a little freckle on the outside of my left knee.  I smiled out loud and said “oh, there you are.”  Don’t worry, the freckle did not reply back, but I am petty sure I heard a gentle “I told you so” whisper in my ear.

He notices freckles, and I remember the moments he does.


Like A Dream


You have left me breathless once more

naked, stretched out on the floor

satisfied smile still upon my lips

as your fingers trace over my hips

And it feels like a beautiful dream

completely tangible, yet unseen

your face blurry before my eyes

your seed still dripping from my thighs

I kiss you with the rising sun

The night may be through

but the dream has just begun

Writing Contest: Your Favorite Fictional Couple

Doesn’t this sound fun!!!


900Homer and Marge, Cinderella and Prince Charming, Ross and Rachel, Shrek and Fiona…

These are all iconic fictional couples whom we are familiar with. We adore them, we love them. But what happens aftertheir “Happily ever after?” Do they stay in love? Do they have an unfortunate fallout? Does conflict disrupt their lives? Perhaps the threat of a third world war challenges their devotion to one another?

You tell us!

For a chance to win $200, writers are encouraged to pick any iconic fictional couple made frozen-2popular by a book, movie, or TV show and enlighten us on what happens after their “Happily ever after.”

Are you not a writer? No problem! We’re sure you know plenty of writers in your life, so please pass this contest along to them so they have a chance at winning $200. Who knows, they might even take you out to dinner…

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A Morning Prayer


Why do you continue to test me

Am I not as strong as you need me to be

How much more will I need to take

Will you pile it on until I break

My shoulders are small, my skin is thin

I beg for mercy, confess my sin

My eyes are tired, my heart is weak

I fall humbly to my knees

Praying for one simple moment of peace

Still I know, I’m more Blessed then most

I chastise myself for losing Hope

I am but one grain of sand

Of all that you hold dear within your hands

If strength is given each time I fall

Then let me be the strongest woman of all

I beg for guidance and wisdom along the way

Because mornings like this, take my breath away

*It is said that we are not given more than we can handle.  Some of us are living proof that a person can handle an awful lot before they lose their minds.  Or, then again, maybe some people lose their minds and never even realize it.



Your Words

I’ve been doing some reading. The feeling remains.

The Migraine Chronicles


when your words kiss my lips

when they run up and down my back

when your words pull me closer to you

when they breathe heavy on my neck

when your words flick my nipples to stand erect

and continue down my stomach

to reach my wetness

when your words bring me to ecstasy

my words call out to yours

I wish your words could hear mine

begging for more

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My season of inactivity has left me restless rather than restful.

My mind is overwhelmed with more questions than I can answer.

My body is left sore from the lack of proper exercise.

My veins and heart have filled with concrete and it is difficult to move.

Each step and breath is labored.

I have spent too much time in hospitals, though not for myself; I lack medical attention.

The wonders of modern medicine no longer work for me, I seek organic remedies.

I search for myself within the written word, both my own and others.  I remain lost.

My lovers are my characters I’ve created within my mind.

In reality I just push everyone further and further away.

I hate being lonely, yet adore being alone.

My six month hibernation has reinforced my freedom to choose, so I go it alone.

I crave the spring, to crawl out of my cave, yet this hibernation is hard to shake.


*August 19, 2015 was the last real happy day that I can recall.  After that day everything went to shit.  I am trying to find my way back, past all the kicks in the head.  Thank You to everyone who has stuck around.  Special thanks to those to have sent messages to check on me.  Extra special thanks to the one who never lets go no matter how hard I push back.  I love you!  XO






The Longing

It’s been one of “those” days for several weeks now…

The Migraine Chronicles


It is a beautiful day

the sun is shining brightly

He is sitting here next to me

not in reality

this is my fantasy

Why is the distance

so distance like

when I want a taste of him

just a little bite

Today the longing

is multiplied by one hundred and three

because I want him so badly

Today the flame is burning

a little hotter than

it probably should

Today my imagination

isn’t doing me

any good

I want him so much

it hurts

and I’d erase

distance and time

if I could

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