My life in this past month has been a whirlwind
of change and transformation and I am both weary
I feel as if I could take on the world better than any
warrior ever could. And yet my pallet of multi-facetted emotions
are becoming swirled into one colour that is grim and unidentifiable.
I am finding absolute serenity in solitude and the idea and fantasy of stepping on a plane entirely alone.
And yet I am still yearning for men. And I am hungry for love. I am thirsty for lips on my neck and hands on my chest. And that thirst seems to be unquenchable. Unattainable.
Why do I find myself at the utmost peace when I am being coddled by the pheromones of a man?
It is not malicious and it is certainly not without contempt or care, it is my inner instinct that pours out of me and possesses my heart and mind as one.