Category Archives: Adult

would you?

if you were asked

to forget everything

you thought you knew

would you?

if you were asked

to embrace your scars

as a masterful tattoo

would you?

if you were asked

to adopt an alternate way

of viewing blue

would you?

if you were asked

lay down your swords

and stop the abuse

would you?

if you were asked

to solve life’s puzzle

using past as the clues

would you?

if you were asked

to travel along a path

others deem as taboo

would you?

if you were asked

to live in a world

with a rose coloured hue

would you?

if you were asked

to spread your wings

and aim for the moon

would you?

if you were asked

to plant your feet

until possibilities grew

would you?

if you were asked

to let your pain die

and birth life anew

would you?

if you were asked

to taste the potential

and not swallow, yet chew

would you?

if you were asked

to surrender your heart

to ultimate truth

would you?

if you were asked

to create your own destiny

would you


if you were asked

to love me

the way i love you

would you?

if you were asked…

would you? 

Resistance is futile

There’s a quote that was infused into my vocabulary at a very young age

‘If you resist, it will persist’

Now, as a strong willed daughter of a trippy hippy mother, my eyes may have rolled over and over when this was uttered. What I hadn’t the experience to know, was that the only reason it was seemingly on repeat, was due to how incredibly much I must’ve been resisting. Otherwise, perhaps her relentless quote would be more like ‘practice what you preach’ oh wait… that’s another overly familiar one…

Now, as a woman… self declared, as I found my very first grey hair last week, I’ve been spending some time in the past… Only this time, it’s been so incredibly different, revealing my indoctrinated beliefs, remembering that I’ve forgotten the way things really happened, be it through age, naivety, or sheer stubbornness. I had quashed some painful moments, magnified others. I had hated my decisions, that actually led me to such extraordinary paths. I had hurt others, when I hadn’t intended. I had held on to others, that deserved to be let go. Where am I going with this…? Pffft *shrugs shoulders* there’s a reason my pen has been dry for the better part of a year…

…Release the purge…

‘If you resist, it will persist’

As a little girl, I moved houses annually, on average. Single mum, raising me, wow, strong woman!

Throughout our moves, and the years, I learned fears. 

Fear of loss, fear of heartbreak, fear of being hated, fear of the unknown, but the one I feared most, was the darkness. How could anybody feel safe without any light?!? I hated the night. Hated the stories that were designed to make me hate the night. Hated the monsters, the men, the creaks in the walls, I hated it all.

So, of course, 30 years later, and more scares than I care to recall, I entered the blackened hollow, that had no end, I was swallowed by depression. 

And fuck me, it was dark!

‘If you resist, it will persist’

Ok, so I’m here, in my very own self induced nightmare. Nobody to question, answer to, or save me.

So, I sink. Deeper.

Scared is an understatement!

I was petrified! Frozen in time.

There was no day, only night.

Sure, my flesh would burn and peel, yet the heat of the sun was impenetrable.

Sure, my smile would stretch my lips, yet it never met my eyes.

For I was cold, alone.

I Was Dark.

Surrender became my only option. Thankfully I was in a relationship that provided me undying protection.

So, I delved, deeper…

Those demons, they called me by name.

Those men, they became my toys.

 Those monsters, they became my kin. 

What I feared all along, was actually really fucking awesome!

I finally felt at home. How had I stayed away so long? Why on earth would I be scared of this dance that I already knew the steps to…?

So, I stayed, played, made friends with every shadow that cast my walls in grey.

Wait, there’s shadows?

Where did they come from?

There’s only shadows where there’s light. Who the fuck let light in?!?

‘If you resist, it will persist’

I don’t want light!

I don’t want happiness!

I don’t want to leave this place!

You can’t make me!

I Am Home!

This is where I belong!

I’ve resisted the darkness my entire life, surely that’s why I’m here…?!?

Here comes the clarity…

I’m addicted to the dark.

I ached to find the balance of light and dark, and slipped a little too far.

It caresses every one of my fears, there’s no judgement here.

If I leave this black abyss, in search of happiness, light, love, then it’ll just be torn away again, that’s what got me here in the first place.

Nope, I’m happy here. 

Fuck the light!
‘If you resist, it will persist’

Damn these shadows!

Why are they dancing all over my cavernous walls?

Surely they’ll soon get bored.

I’ll just ignore them.

Wait, what are they writing?

‘Desire’ ‘Resist’ ‘Desire’ ‘Resist’

They’re painting with my blood, I’ve not much left to give.

Fuck, I’m dying here.

My breaths no longer expand my lungs. My mind has all but taken charge. My heart has no drum.

Another quote ‘opposites attract’

To desire something, means to resist another. I desired the light in order to be safe in my resistance from darkness. Then, I desired the freedom in the blackened space, through fear of all that the light allows you to lose. 

There’s no loss here, it’s already gone. 



Gasping breath!

Balance, I need to find balance.

There’s no time left to wallow in these hollows. I’m not ready to die.

‘If you resist, it will persist’

Persistence is my only option.

Balance my only choice.

I’ve met the dark, danced with my demons.

I’ve tasted the light, soared with my wings.

Today, I’m sitting in the heat of Spring sunshine, warmed by all that I’ve learned. Fear of the night drew me in, fear of the light threw me back out.

I’ve no fear for either, for my darkness that still lingers, now, simply provides the walls for my shadows to spin and twirl.
Here’s another quote, and it’s mine

‘I love you mother, and yes, you were right, again’ x

just be…

be the life

of his every breath

be the birth

that caresses death 

be the gift

that beckons presence

be the star

that circles his crescent 

be the bosom

that piques his interest

be the strength

that supports his weakness

be the limbs

that grow intertwined

be the reality

of fantasies combined

be the woman

that curves his sight

be the guide

to his every delight

be the light

that shadows his dark

be the journey

he yearns to embark

be the elixir

that conjures his sip

be the goddess

that deserves his worship


it’s okay

i’m not as strong

as i thought i was

and that

is okay

because i know

that by tomorrow

i’ll be stronger

than yesterday

i’m not as brave

as i thought i was

and that too

is alright

for this armor

that weighed me down

is now often

feeling light

i’m not as happy

as i thought i was

a painstaking


although the sun

still reminds me

that the sky too

is blue 

i’m not as smart

as i once wished i was


no nobel prize

what i may lack

in fact keeping

i truly strive

with the wise

i’m not as pretty

as i once hoped

i’d grow

to be

i do however

live moments

of pure

poetic beauty

i’m not as stable

as i hoped to be

in this stage

of my life

however i’m grateful

that these walls i built

could be taken down

by a lone pocket knife

i’m not as confident

as i lead others

to believe

to see

i am vulnerable

i am weak

i am still learning how

to be me

…and that

is okay…

because although i can’t

repaint the past

i can

sketch a new today


#PicturePromptChallenge by Megan Kay

What a truly humbling day, to have my words added to this ever growing list of exquisitely penned Poets and Authors. If gratitude could spill from ones pores, consider me love slickened! Thank you Deb!
Please, click on the link and allow yourselves some time to scroll through this delightful myriad of poetic interpretation, enjoy x

Words across the Oceans



If my life was a play
I’d set the stage
with a path
cast in darkness
There’d be tangled limbs
bowing to the winds
that constantly whispered
of times change
There’d be a moon
swollen with howls
however now
perhaps with wishes
And a star studded sky
just there to remind me
of how minuscule
I truly am

If my life was a play
I’d set the stage
with flickers
of warm candlelight
There’d be no need
to rehearse my verses
for my truth
would spill from my eyes
My past would be behind me
my future not yet scripted
and my now
I’d gift solely to you
There’d be no bells and whistles
I’d not cue the violins
There’d be just me, bared
in naked vulnerability

If my life was a play
I’d set the stage
with a path
that lead me to…

View original post 23 more words

No space between

There’s no space between the moment our eyes meet in recognition of the gift we each offer one another.
There’s no space between your knees that rest on the floor before me and the awe that swirls deep within my core.
Theres no space between the blindfold blinding your sight and the beauty I see with my wide eyes.
There’s no space between the leather fastened around your throat and the way it feels to know you’re now mine.
There’s no space between the links of chain trailing in aid of binding your wrists and my sigh of the freedom you will now find.
There’s no space between me and the rouge of your cheeks as each time my palm meets your flesh, we connect. The lick of each flick of my crop, the bite of each plaited tail creating lines of exquisite delight, from me, by me, for me, your servitude ignites.
There’s no space between the breath that’s bated in anticipation of the next strike, and my adoring caress, of utter contentedness at your will to please, me, repeatedly.
There’s no space between each bruise I leave upon your flesh, each welt, each strike, each line, I wear, with you, as you. Each moment, you sit, reminisce, over the sheer intoxicated bliss you felt, remember, my pet, there’s no space between the joy and elation your acquiescence delivered so readily, to me.
There’s no space between the ecstasy repleting into the pain of craving to repeat the soaring exploration of our journey, trust me, I too ache to stay high on the rush our time together provides.
There’s no space between your need and mine, no time, like the present, you gift my life.
There’s no space between you and I.


The way He…

she sits alone
sipping slowly
from the glistening rim
of drunken thoughts
cupping crystalised images
swirling in her sins
her palate whet
with remnants
of his scent
the way he made her
in wanton release
then turned her
gripping her hips
and forced her
teeth to bite the sheets
the way he worked her body
each curve designed
to be refined by his touch
the way he clutched
her neck tightly
as she beckoned
profanities politely
fuck me
the way he knew
how her flesh would rouge
with each lick
of his flicking crop
the way his digits
slid inside her
reminding her
how drenched she was
the way he owned
every moment
with the skill
of a professional Sir
the way she fell
to her knees
pleading to please
his every need
the way he soothed
her insecurities
with whispers
that dripped with pleasure
the way he showed her
how completely
she aroused him
by taking her
breaking her
remaking her
and again
she sat alone
in the dark
sipping slowly
from her past
the depth
of his impressions
went far beneath
her supple flesh


Why does it feel…

Why does it feel
like an eternity
since I kissed those lips?
When in reality
it’s merely been but a breath
that is yet to be exhaled
Why does it feel
as though my flesh
has been left abandoned?
When in reality
my limbs, my neck, my breasts
still bear bruises of your bite
Why does it feel
so long ago
that you held me close?
When in reality
the warmth of your touch
still smolders deeply inside
Why does it feel
like forever ago
that I got lost in your eyes?
When in reality
neither you
nor I
have blinked


I don’t often write of love.

I don’t often write of love.
Sure, I may occasionally pen
Directed as a suggestion, more so than a profession. Yet, who am I to suggest such a thing? For I, myself know not what it means.
Sure, I’m familiar with the term, have used it broadly in exclamation of intensity, but what confusion simply using one word can often bring. I am a mother, a grand one at that. No, not a boast, I’m just that old. My love for these beings is undoubtedly the most intense I’ve experienced. Yes, I know I’d lift a car if one happened to be between me and the moment of ones life and death. This love, is without question. But upon reflection, would I find such strength, such a will within myself, to lift said burden from crushing me? History has proven to me, no. Now that’s not to say that my future reads as bleak, not admitting I find myself unworthy, it’s simply reminding myself that’s it’s only me, that will ever stop me from feeling truly worthy, of love.
I love to write of lust! The thrusts of such carnal toe curling throes, flows so easily from my pen. Again, I wonder if it’s because I feel safer with the boundary that using the word ‘lust’ over ‘love’ implies.
To be totally truthful, ‘love’ scares the absolute fuck out of me.
That single moment of undeniable vulnerability simultaneously makes me ache in yearning to taste, and hide my heart away… in aid of what, keeping it safe? Love of ones Self, is no doubt my life’s goal. Well, a challenge so far, but a goal none the less… Love of and for another, that love that has kept the hands and hearts of poets occupied for eons of time, and will continue to do so for eternity I suspect, yes, that love, terrifies me. I mean, honestly, allowing one soul to reach in, behind every mask I adorn, strip me of all pretense, cull me of any shelter, bare me of these layers that I’ve tirelessly placed in self preservation, of protection, against breaking, against being taken, as a fool, as a love sick fool…yep…terrified!
And what of the moment of realization that on paper, the realities simply do not connect all the dots, yet the way every moment of every single day is completely drenched by thoughts of how they make you feel, complete, worthy, wanted, needed. Is that enough? Is that love? Or just another lust that wears a cloak of blood pumping greed? Does love even need to make sense? Or is that the whole purpose? It never does, never will? Is that the hurdle that must be leapt? The edge of the cliff that must be found? The jump, the fall, the not knowing if you’ll crash n burn or flap n soar?
Fucked if I know! All I’m sure of is that I don’t often write of love.
For I, myself know not what it means…


Ready… Or not……

Sensory overload
swirling within her core
All stored desires writhing
in awakening ache
to be freed

Stricken by greed
her long forgotten plead
now replaced by fingertips
of deeply gauging need

To feed
her only goal

Utter intoxication
of a sinful nights scent
completely sweeping
her arching spine

She crawls
prowling with the prowess
of a skilled killer beast
beneath a well rounded moon

Her swelling starvation
stirring growls of hunger
rolling in silent storms
behind a finely refined
lip bitten grin

She was famished
salivating in salvation
of savouring each new flavour
as it dripped from the fresh flesh
of her next unsuspecting victim

…………..Or not…….