He doesn’t want to be cured because it is his firm belief that the most intriguing part of his whole existence is the disease he wears like a badge of honor. I don’t know if I believe in him or not no matter how real he is towering over me with his big strong arms and flashy white teeth. There are sharks in the water and the water is choppy, dark, and deep. When his mouth is on me it’s too late to run. Much too hot to tear myself away from whatever this is which immobilizes me so entirely. As the minutes slide into oblivion and his hands drag soft delicious circles over my sex, the lines between now and then blur into a place where the only thing that matters is the way we melt together. I’m not really one for romance although I guess I wish I was. Seduction. Lust. Sex. These are languages I understand. I seek out. I’m hardly sentimental if that even means what I think it does, but I fan the flames of passion and desire within. They feel like the closest thing to life itself I’ve ever found although I couldn’t say why. Why does anyone worship anything at all unless it awakens the very essence of the soul. What is the soul if not the ancient, perpetual timelessness of longing which stirs in the blood and motivates one’s most intimate, private, heated yearnings. Perhaps we romanticize the things we shouldn’t and vulgarize the things we needn’t. Dostoevsky says if God does not exist then everything is permissible. What if God does exist but she’s villainous. Willing to burn the world to ash just to feel the rush. We are such fools spinning around in our own little orbits passing each other only briefly, paying so little attention to any of the miracle of being here at all. And so dick pics and sexting and the panic of that, and wine in coffee mugs, lip injections, influencers and all the rest of the merry go round circus. People are lonely out there. Lonelier than ever before in all of human history. And as much as I worship at the altar of carnal desire, I’m not so sure the sick want healing or that the healing will have to take place anywhere else but the mind.
Allison Marie Conway 
And another one! I swear, you keep me coming back for more of your delectable posts…so beautiful and so true, especially about people being lonely, despite the facade. 🌑🔥✨🥀💋
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Then you said ‘delectable’ and then I died… I am so grateful you come back, dear Lisa. Thank you ever so much. ♥️🥀🕊
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Swoon🥰😘💋
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You’re so lovely 💋♥️🕊🌹
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🧐
👆😁😉🤭🤐
See what I did there
👀👈
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Detective?
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“Dostoevsky says if God does not exist then everything is permissible. What if God does exist but she’s villainous. Willing to burn the world to ash just to feel the rush.” Girl! 🔥You burn me down! Insatiable piece! ❤
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Mmm you say ‘insatiable’ and I melt a little bit… 🔥 thank you so ever much, beautiful talented you. ♥️🌹
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I’d love to see any of your posts talk about falling in love. If you have already written any of that, please point me towards that. Thanks! 🌹
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Well… I’m sure you could find a few bits here and there if you look around my little collection. I don’t mention ‘love’ too often. Feels to cliché or something but that’s a whole other story. Thank you for reading. 🙏🏻🌹🕊
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You’re welcome 👍
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‘What if God does exist but she’s villainous’ What a delicious mind you have.
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My pleasure and my curse. Thank you ever so much for visiting. 🖤
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The pleasure is all mine
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Well, that makes me smile. 🕊
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Perfect
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🖤
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