Midnight fantasy

I smelled like magnolia as I waited for you at the edge of the world. My living room was messy but you didn't seem to care as you looked at me with stars in your eyes. It wasn't love, it was the beginning of something more.

We didn't talk, no words were necessary as feelings collided from our eyes like the waves of the ocean crashing to the shore with desperate need.

You kissed me and I bit your lips as I always do, drawing blood as red as the passion that fired our senses. Fireworks of lust, and light, so much light that we didn't seem to notice the world around us anymore, and how it dissapeared in a haze of unknown nothingness.

You drove into me as I looked into your eyes, my soul a naked chaos of dreams and solitude. You told me I am beautiful. Don't you know, darling, that beauty has its price?

I left you as I leave everything I touch, never looking back. And my soul, reborn from our thing that I'll never put a name to, laughed like a madman at the rain and bathed in the scent of memories. Your smell, my smell, mixed together like a potent drug still lingers on me. I'll wash it off and I'll be free.

An open letter to men looking for affairs

Isn't it funny, how you want me for something I'll never be? 

My soul bleeds if I hurt someone. I can't and won't take what's another woman's man, not because I don't want you, because I know how it hurts. I've been that woman at one point in my life and the time it took to piece myself together like a puzzle blowed up by a nuclear bomb seemed almost eternal. 

My heart is selfish, it craves all of you. I wouldn't accept anything but your complete surrender that I know you're not willing to give. Why bother with half measures of everything when I am and can be all that you need? It's not pride that makes me say that, it's the belief a woman gathers by going through a lot of suffering  that makes her come back to life like a Phoenix from its own ashes.

My brain refuses all of it and mocks me in return. Sense and sensibility stop me from doing what's morally wrong. I am a cerebral woman that only lets emotions manifest when she knows she can control them. A control freak, they call me and now more than ever I embrace it.

So no darling, I won't be the second woman in your life. I love myself more.

Beware

I won't make it easy on you.
I'll be mean and I'll push you away. The harder you'll try, the harder I'll get back at you.
I'll be nice sometimes and compliment you and I'll look at you with all the hope and vulnerability I hide deep inside, but then I'll backlash at you and try to hurt you like you've never been hurt before. It is to myself that I'm directing all that anger and pain, because you make me feel. And for that I must make you pay.
I'll play with your hair and bite your lips and make you want me like you've never wanted anything in your life. I'll be your opium and you'll wonder at times if I am normal. I'm not. I wear the scars of a past love that's carved so deep inside me that I sometimes cannot see through the thick blood of its wounds, the same blood that makes me go berserk on you whenever you get closer.
Don't be fooled by that. Inside there's a scared woman-child that feels too deeply, cares too deeply and doesn't want any of that. I reject my own nature during the day and embrace it during the night.
I'll go out and flirt and dance just to make you jealous, make you doubt I have any feelings whatsoever for you and you'll wonder if I ever let anybody get as close as I let you. You'll think at times that I'm a slut. You'll think at times that I'm easily manipulable. I'm neither of these.
I'm more scared than anyone you'll ever know of intimacy and affection because I crave it so desperately. I'm carved from the same blood and dirt my ancestors were, the ones that used to conquer whatever went their way.
I'm a fighter. I eat my fear alive and punch her in the throat til the bitch's so dizzy she doesn't know what hit her. I'll be your fall and your ascension.
Once you get to me, I'll be just like a wounded animal, always waiting for the next hit. I won't expect you to love me. I won't expect you to respect my vulnerabilities once you know them. I'll expect you to strike at any point cause I've been stained before.
I rejoice in that blood and lick it from my lips like a vampire turned cannibal.
I'll feast on you and make you go numb with the light and darkness that I keep inside, a talisman of long lost hopes and dreams.
I'll love you and if you'll see way beyond my self sabotaging techniques, we'll burn together like the flame at Christ's grave, united in our own pagan way to consecration.