Tuesday, December 21, 2010

It is set upon me..

.. to be who and what I am with the best of my ability, the most of my creativity, and the entirety of my heart .. to lose myself in it time and again, and to bring myself back from it with the knowledge that I may repeat the experience endlessly til the day I draw my final breath in this world.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

This aching in my bones ..

the cold makes it hurt
makes it creak and groan.
So tired of long days, long nights
coast to coast flights in full planes.
Weariness I wear like a skin,
loneliness a bedfellow.
So tired.

Dreams again..

My book collection. Walking into my room and having my pick of a hundred or two beautiful masses of words to wrap myself into.. anything I want.. Philosophy, History, Fantasy.. any world I want. Pulling a story to read to someone, to share something that means so much to me...

Waking up next to someone special.. the warm, smooth arch of a spine under my hand.. the soft musk in his hair.. the gentle sound of sleep lulling me back into slumber. Long nights awake, so much shared with so little spoken.

Nightmares sometimes..

Loud, angry. Waking up with tears streaming down my face.. as if I could just cry enough, it'd stop .. please stop. Stop please, it hurts. You're hurting me, let me go.. please please god please just let me go. Whimpering, sobbing, begging, pleading, crying, screaming. Please let it be over soon, please. Feeling useless.. worthless.. as if it were my fault.. it had to be my fault .. I must have done something wrong, I made him angry.

Waking up..

some scars heal slowly. Painfully.

Breathe. In .. out ... again. Rinse, repeat.

See my scars?
They're there, I swear.
Criss-crossing my body, over arms, under thighs
lacing like spiderwebs over my hands
layer upon layer over my cheeks and eyes
small ones, fine ones
longer, thicker
caressing my stomach, my hips
gentle kisses and harsh screams
small tears, angry voices
some broken hearts and a few lost hopes
small hurts carefully plotted and planned
one here, two there, maybe one more next to these
hurt me, hate me, leave your mark
I'll carry your scar upon my heart
she hurt you, let me take the pain
he hit you, I'll make it go away
lost friends, lost homes, lost lost lost lost lost
it hurts to see sometimes
to look in a mirror and see these scars
twisted flesh, burnt and burning
ripped skin, careful cuts
marred surface, rippled with pain
everywhere, face, neck, shoulders, back
over my ribs, down my arms
so many scars, too many scars
can you see them? how can you not?
I see them. every day I see them.
They're there, I swear.

But you can't see them. Because they're inside.
These are my life experience. My "youth".. childhood tortures, teenage nightmares. Lost things, broken parts. I carry them because they mark a record of my life... so much life in such a short time.

These are my courage. My strength. My dreams, hopes .. the things I've survived, given up, taken back, given away, broken, healed.

These are my age. The record of who I am.. who I've been.. I can count them. Recount them.. stories, memories .. some hurt, some don't. Some are tears .. hot, painful, choking me. Some make me smile, laugh, sigh.

My heart feels old. So old.

These bones of mine. They ache.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

I still feel you..

your heart beat, your breath
the hair against my skin
sweat and muscle flexing, pushing
the shake of your body
when you push into me, pull from me
the hurried moan
closer, further, harder
my nails digging, ripping
a hard thrust
my breath catches in my throat
your name pounding through my blood
pulling you closer, tighter
dragging you into me
fucking me, holding me
breaking me
bearing into me

I can feel you
in my sleep, in my waking
every morning
every night
I try not to
but still

I can feel you

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I'm running out of glue..

.. I scrap it, start over, and it breaks again.
I try to glue it together, but there's pieces missing,
or they aren't fitting properly, or the glue isn't working just right.
So I have to toss it and start over.. again.
It's frustrating. I feel clumsy, awkward.
My hands shake every so often, and my coordination is just..
not quite right.. for what I need.
I get confused, trying to figure out where to go with it,
what to do with it.
For a few blissful moments, sometimes, I can forget about it,
focus on something else. But I can't.
Because some things just have to be done.
So I do them.
I'm tired now. My back aches, breathing hurts some nights.
I promised that when it wasn't worth the tears, I'd move on..
so it's time. Time for a new try. To scrap the mess and start over.
Take some old parts, some new parts, a bit of glue, paint, string,
a little spit, a lot of luck, and hope.

Hope. That tiny, fluttering thing that can almost be unbearable
sometimes to carry around. It swells and grows at the least word or
gesture. It betrays sometimes.. that false beacon from a lost and lonely lamp.
It hurts. The pain .. I need it some days. Because I'd rather hurt, even to the
utter core of my being, then feel nothing. Be nothing.

Because if it hurts, there's still a chance. Still Hope. Still something there to break and bleed and crack and crumble. So I hurt.

And start looking for more glue.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

What dreams are made of ..

Her message:

"Hi Natalie, thank you for accepting my friendship. I was drawn to your photo for a reason I wasn't sure why until just now. You are a beautiful model and soul. I had a long run in Mary Kay where I loved working with my ladies doing makeovers and was taught by many artists through the years. Also, I have had a strong inner urge the past few weeks to get back into the world of being a make-up artist. I believe now, that through my connecting with you, I have my question answered. Thank you Natalie for answering my prayers. ♥ ♥ ♥"

My rely:

There are things, sometimes, that remind us why we do so love what we do, what we dream of, what we hope to give of ourselves to the world around us.

And sometimes, there are things that make everything we work for worth the tears, the struggle, the laughter, the joys..

Thank you. For answering my prayers. For showing me that somewhere, this was all worth it to one person. That it inspired and encouraged the dreams of a dreamer to change their world just a little.

Monday, June 21, 2010

I'm dreaming.. again..

Night after night.. different dreams, but not different.


A heavy breath.. rushing across my skin
lips touch mine, a tongue, a taste.
A push, an arm.. lifting, pulling
sliding me along a counter, then quickly
so quickly
onto the bed.
A soft moan, a soft growl, fingers fumble
then catch.. a button, buttons, a zipper
cloth slides off with a whisper.
Teeth pulling, biting, scraping
a moan, a sigh, my back arching
your arm pulls closer.
My hand wraps across your neck, pulling
begging for that taste, those lips
My fingers search, find, grasp
you growl softly, I squeeze
pull, stroke.. firmly,
you groan again and lift my head to you.
A taste.. soft lips wrapping softer skin
down, into the warmth, pinning my tongue
then up again, gently, firmly
and again, squeezing
and again
you push me back.
Hands pulling at my skin, digging
scratching, spanking, pinning me in place
legs parted, wrapped around
you push, I moan
deepest, hardest
and out
and again, back inside, harder, faster.
I almost scream, biting it off into your shoulder
bite harder, digging my nails down your back
pulling, dragging, you thrust
again and deeper
yourself in me
me harder, faster
harder, deeper
oh god keep going
and you go
teeth and nails, hard muscle, soft skin
fisted hair, searching mouth
a taste, lips, tongue
you swallow my moans, my sighs
muscles tense, you growl
i whimper, you groan
what? you ask, harder. I say
faster, harder
fuck me
SMACK your hand on my ass
as I
RIP my nails down your back
so tight. you say
so hard. I say
and we go
longer, harder
pushing me into the bed
pulling me to the edge
on my knees, i push
you growl
i push harder
you go deeper
i moan
me harder
so fast
so hard
a growl, a groan that rocks my heart
i move, you grab me
i moan, you fall into me
into me, onto me
we breathe, you sigh
a heavy breath, rushing across my skin.

the dream fades.


I'm sitting in a chair outside the front door. The sun has mostly set.. there's a faint splash of color left in the clouds and a soft night breeze brushes the hair across my face. I'm waiting, anxiously. I jump a little at the barking of a dog as I hear the sound of an engine coming closer. It gets close, idles for a bit, then dies as a door opens and shuts. I'm looking at my knees, my hands shaking with small tremors. A pair of boots step into my line of vision.. a voice starts to speak, then stops suddenly, silently, as attention is brought to the small box and the smaller piece of plastic in my hand. A soft grumble, somewhere between a whisper and a growl, as callused hands reach forward and take mine. I hear a voice .. it sounds so small and quiet, I don't realize it's my own at first.. "It's positive". I look up slowly, a smile gently crossing my face as tears blur my vision..

the dream fades.


I'm standing in front of a mirror in a bedroom. It's a long antique mirror, tall enough to reflect my body from head to ankles. I'm standing in front of it, nude, and simply looking at myself.

As I watch, the reflection shifts. My body shifts. My hips grow a bit wider, my belly begins to take on that familiar form of life quickening inside. My breasts grow heavy and rounder, my back shifts to accommodate the change. I can see the faint stretch marks as my skin flexes and grows to take on this new shape. As I watch, seeing nothing but the change taking place, I hear a voice, calling my name.. lower and stronger then my own. It sounds like velvet, and I can feel my pulse quicken, my heart warm with the sound of it, as I gently run my hand over the weight in my belly. I reach out to the mirror.. as if to brush a speck away..

and the dream fades.


The next.. I'm sitting in the grass, leaning back against a strong body. Arms encircling me and the soft bundle in my arms. A laugh, a soft squeeze, a chin resting on my shoulder and tickling my neck as I look down at sigh happily at a small, sleeping face. A hand reaches around and runs a finger along a tiny cheek, and we both inhale softly as big eyes slowly open and try to focus. A big yawn from a tiny, tiny mouth, and as I shift my body to bring that face closer to the larger one behind me..

the dream fades.


I'm sitting on a sidewalk, completely covered in colored dust. I can feel it on my face, my clothing, my hair. A small hand comes into view, picks up a piece of chalk, and begins to crudely scrape a daisy into the gray expanse before us. She turns, and looks at me proudly as she surveys her handiwork, and I hear her voice for the first time.. "Mommy, can we draw a horse too?" I laugh, and pick up another piece of chalk .. "Yes, but you have to help me, you make the best ones". I lean forward onto my palms, and can feel the rough concrete working it's way into my skin, sending up a small cloud of dust from the rolling sticks that scatter as I move forward. I lean forward to catch one as it attempts to escape..

the dream fades.


They repeat, every few nights I have one or another.. not always exactly the same.. but almost..

It scares me sometimes.. the surety, the realism of them. I've woken up with tears running down my face and an aching emptiness in my arms. I run my hands over my torso, wondering what's real. I'll sit, for hours sometimes, playing it over again in my head, grasping as much as I can as the details begin to fade. You create yourself in dreams.. wishes, hopes, worries, fears .. sometimes ones you never really thought you had.

I find myself. I've found myself. That person I am, and the one I want to be. Where I want to be.

Now. The hard part.

Getting there.

Hopeful Lover.
Someday Mother.


Friday, May 21, 2010

A relic...

No, you are not a relic.. not some lost piece of something gone past. You are here, wholly and truly a part of this world, this age, this day.. and the next.

You are a living reminder of what it once meant to be human.. to be man. The love, the passion, the duty, the honor of a world that barely clings to existence.. mostly forgotten.. a world we ache for, yearn for.. cry out in the midst of our dreams for.

A memory that makes us fear that we are less then we could be, less then we should be.. of the aching need in our souls to leave our part in this life changed, better, for us having been here.

The warrior of our hearts, the hero of our songs
our dreams, the audacity to not be afraid
to embrace ourselves, to know ourselves.
To love, to loathe, to sing, dance, fight, fuck, to cry
with the honor of our own spirits,
the courage of our hearts,
with the desperate need of you
in deepest fantasy, furthest dreams, darkest fears.

The muse, the desire, the idea that pushes us
to be human, to be mortal and immortal.
To bear the burden of the pain, love, passion, fear;
to try, to fail, to try, to try harder, to live.
The rock we lean on, stand on-
river we follow, drink from-
wind that speaks to us, pushes us-
the fire, the burning aching knowledge
of what a man, a friend, a lover, a love, a person
could be,
would be,
should be.

You are human, you are here, now, with us.
And we are the better for it.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

I'm naked..

bare, cold
wrapped in a broken heart and invisible scars
mourning a chance not given
tired, lonely, empty

I feel old.. too much life in too little lifetime.
bones aching, joints creaking
constant pain, followed by too many painful memories
I just want to be warm. safe. loved.

I ask too much, I'm not enough.
it tears.. hurts.
but if it makes you happy, in the end.
I'll be okay.

You asked me if I loved you.
I said I didn't know.

I do. and I do.
though you'll hate me for it.
I'll keep it in a box.

I do love you.
and I hate me for it.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I can..

almost hear you, feel you, taste you, touch you
haunting my thoughts, my dreams
unvoiced fantasies .. aching flesh
arching, begging, crying
for your hands, lips
I want your thighs between mine..
hard muscle, pushing, pulling
filling me..
bind me, bite me
fill me deeper, harder
I dream of you on me, in me
pulsing, throbbing painful need
your voice in my heart as you bury into me
dark, moist, yielding to you, enveloping you
I need you.. to hold me, hurt me, fuck me
trap me in your body, tangle me in your hair
swallow my moans, my screams, feed me yours
Pin me into the bed, grind your hips into my skin
bruise me, tie me, eat me alive
harder, faster, until I


your name to the stars and make the gods quiver in pleasure
clench your hands into my muscle, bury your face in my throat
shoving into my body and I dig my nails into your back


me .. harder faster deeper HARDER
make my heart gallop along the shore
ride me, lead me, whip me til I cry for you


more, please, fuck me hold me tear me apart
I will beg for you, cry for you, bleed hurt scream for you
need you want you crying begging pleading for you


me til you melt into me, pulsing, throbbing
slow shuddering melting breathing
Collapse into me..

then smile, laugh.. hold me close and envelop me in your arms, smell, touch
soft kisses, touches, laughter
a sigh, a squeeze..


I can almost hear you..


“I cannot cure myself of that most woeful of youth's follies--thinking that those who care about us will care for the things that mean much to us.” -D.H. Lawrence

“Of all follies there is none greater than wanting to make the world a better place.” -Moliere

“Every man has his follies -- and often they are the most interesting thing he had got.” -Josh Billings

I'm in a mood today. I'll write something delicious in a little bit :)

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Connotative Meanings..

So some people fuck.

Some people lust, romp, hokey pokey, horizontal mambo, make whoopie, knock boots, bump uglies, get "biz-ay", have relations, make some nookie, shag, hump..etc.

Some people get intimate, make music together, make love, make babies, etc.

In the end..

people feel love, lust, desire, passion, attraction, chemistry, animalism, aphrodisia, appetence, appetition, avidity, carnality, concupiscence, covetousness, craving, cupidity, desire, eroticism, excitement, fervor, greed, hunger, itch, lasciviousness, lechery, lewdness, libido, licentiousness, longing, prurience, pruriency, salaciousness, salacity, sensualism, sensuality, thirst, urge, wantonness, weakness, yen, adulation, affection, allegiance, amity, amorousness, amour, appreciation, ardency, ardor, attachment, cherishing, crush, delight, devotedness, devotion, emotion, enchantment, enjoyment, fervor, fidelity, flame, fondness, friendship, hankering, idolatry, inclination, infatuation, involvement, like, mad for, partiality, piety, rapture, regard, relish, respect, sentiment, soft spot, taste, tenderness, worship, yearning, zeal ....

or whatever other damn word they feel appropriately describes the feelings that cause flurries of coitus with another.

Whatever feelings or actions a word may describe to YOU isn't necessarily what it describes to anyone else.

Get the hell over the friggen connotative differences.