How does it sound when you moan.
Is it deep and honest…shallow and teasing.
Left poured against my lips or deep in my chest.
Could you speak my name and awake me anew.
Force yourself deeper into what was always meant to be yours.
Does your skin tingle and sweat or harden and scream…
mercy, love, how my heart overflows.
Do you roll long and purposed or spirited eager.
Body soul connected or vocal countdown…
five, four, three, two, one.
Do you rattle these walls, through sharpened teeth
and heart attacks allow me submit to you, a proper man.
Or do you beg time and gravity vanish, drown in every sensation
as your body displays me as a beautiful woman.
Do everything or nothing,
just quench my curiosity sooner than later.
How does it sound when you moan.
You don’t have to touch me.
Don’t have to drop a gaze across every curve.
Don’t have to show me the delicious pulse
beating synchronized wildly beneath your neck.
Don’t have to sprawl lengthy fingers across my knee.
But I want you to.
Oh, how I want you to.
You excite me in ways unimaginable.
Contort stubborn muscles and bend every desire
with a simple movement, drenched intention.
You ravish me with simply a look,
while I lazily drown in twin cerulean seas.
Sharpened lips are a vice around my lungs,
and you can have every breath.
Inhale them so deep inside and watch me writhe.
Bitten lips, bitten fingertips serve as restraints
from releasing every passionate, sordid thought in my head.
Your electricity could be my unfolding,
and your body is my thunderstorm.
Lover, liberate me.
I’m in a mood today.
Frustrated, antsy, generally
‘let the world go down in flames’ mood.
So allow me say my thank you’s…
Thank you springtime,
for bringing out the 30 mile an hour sightseers.
I didn’t need to get to work on time…
or back from lunch, for that matter.
Thank you truth,
for making me out to be a heinous witch…
people lie when they say they hate a liar.
Thank you dust, cats and assorted microbes,
for gifting me an asthma attack nearly every single night….
I totally don’t need oxygen to survive.
I got this, bro.
I desperately need a week long vacation,
a gallon size Jack and Coke,
and to not have given up smoking.
Are you more feminine or masculine? : It depends, really. I love Disney princesses, high heels, dresses, and boys. But…at the same time…I’d pick a baseball game over most things, I’m not afraid of mud, I hardly sit with my legs together, and hand me anything carbonated and I’ll burp you under the table.
Are you tall or short?: I’m tall to a short person and short to a tall person.
What’s your greatest flaw? : I speak before I think. Self-doubt. Living in general fear.
Do you see yourself differently than other people describe you?: Clearly. Some people think I’m beautiful. ….yikes.
What are you really, really good at?: Writing. Sarcasm.
What’s something you’re bad at, but love? : Singing. Dancing.
Describe the way you dress in one sentence.: Not the way a 27 year old should.
What is the most insulting thing anyone has said to you? : That I’m selfish and judgmental. Given the context of the moment, I did not at all find it to be a fair accusation.
Do you believe in God?: Yes.
Is men’s rights a thing?: Everyone has rights.
Can science explain everything, eventually?: Absolutely not. Some things, straight up, cannot be explained.
Are we raised into what we love, or do we come to love it based on how we were raised?: I think both. I was raised in a Christian family, therefore fostering my love for God. On the other point, I definitely wasn’t raised as a writer, but I came to love writing.
Do we define ourselves, or does our past?: I think your past can help define you, but only if you learn from it. If you become a stronger, better person because of it, then it helps. Otherwise, it’s what we do everyday that defines us.
What happens after we die?: Heaven or Hell.
Do humans matter–tiny specs on a floating piece of rock in a solar system in a galaxy in an infinite universe?: Obviously. Everything in existence has a purpose and reason for being, so why else would we be here if we didn’t matter?
Is there good in everyone?: Yes. You just, sometimes, have to look reeeaaally hard to find it.
Describe, personality-wise, what your ideal boy/girlfriend would be like?: Funny, sarcastic, thoughtful, patient, understanding, little weird.
Describe, appearance-wise, what your ideal boy/girlfriend would be like?: Benedict Cumberbatch. :D
How much of an age gap can you handle?: Hmmm…..10 years older, 4 years younger. I could never date anyone younger than my brother (ick), and they’d have to be really special for me to consider anyone more than 10 years older.
How would you introduce yourself on a blind date?: Hi, my name is Jessica. ??? How else would you do that!?
Is lying about something serious as bad as cheating?: Yes. Both are a betrayal of trust.
Some things I find incredibly sexy:
- Love letters
- Deep moans
- Adam’s apples (particularly the movement up and down when a guy talks)
- Rich colored eyes
- Deep voice
- Full smile
- Slinky guitar riffs
- Tattoo sleeves
- An hourglass figure
- Good posture (such an underrated quality)
- Goofy and smart sense of humor
- Big libraries
- Full lips
(Should I add?….take away??)
- A picture of my morning: Got to work, sluggish, really still asleep. Put in my contacts, got some makeup on and I made this day my bitch. Funny how things work.
- So, I got Frozen yesterday. Who is the happiest overgrown child in the world?? Me!
- I have been all about some pineapple lately. Ugh. I wanna drink it, eat it, smell it, roll around on it. …Something weird is going on.
- The other day, I told my friend that I was going to start wearing red lipstick. Why? Just because. You can’t wear red lipstick and not feel like a badass….and maybe that’s what I need in my life. A little badass-ness deep in my soul.
- Pretty sure my house is trying to kill me. I’ve had asthma attacks countless times over the past few weeks, and they always happen at night when I’m confined to my bedroom. Coincidence? No, I don’t think so. It’s attempted murder.
This ball is crushing my chest.
Choked back tears, swallowed words,
seething frustration so long hidden.
I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.
I could rip free of this skin
and still be in less agony.
Release me or suffocate me now.
Your appearance burns my world to the ground,
and I should hate you…loathe you…
but can’t when other words get in the way.
Other beautiful, tragic, stupid words.
Tell me you love me. Tell me you like me.
Tell me this isn’t all for naught.
Tell me. Just speak. Noise.
Anything to kill the silence before it takes me.
You will always be my biggest regret.
Regretting loss, inexperience, apathy.
You could have had everything.
Tell me you want everything.
I. Can’t. Breathe.