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Takeover She runs her thumb, hard pressure, down myTakeover by *ghostlove
spine, it curves and arches against her
by itself, a reflex, I am out of control.
Out of control of my body, my mind, she owns me
for this brief moment, I give myself
to her. She runs her fingers, gentle, down me
so soft but she strokes away at my core
exposing layers of me I thought were lost
some I've never seen before. She peels them away
with soft fingertips laying me open
laying me bare, I am hers entirely,
there is no me that is not her.
It's A Bastard It's like a bad boyfriendIt's A Bastard by *ghostlove
picking you up
and dropping you again
never letting you know where you stand
promising you everything will be better and then
throwing you in the dirt once more.
You keep telling yourself that this time
you'll be strong enough to overcome
to get out
but it keeps clawing you back into its dirty clutches
and whispering in your ear that
you will never, never escape.
Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend I always hated overused clichés. "Strawberry-tipped nipples" for example, is one which all erotic writers fall back on at some point or another, but in Mia's case it was true. Hers were the exact shape of the smaller end of a strawberry, though perhaps a little deeper in colour, and had I ever just bitten a little deeper I could imagine my teeth sinking through soft flesh, the sweet sticky juice spraying over my tongue, water springing from my taste buds as the powerful sweetness spread over my tongue.Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend by *ghostlove
That was the first thing I noticed as I gazed over the lifeless body before me. Those once-pink rosebuds now had a bluish-purple
Pox I'm sitting on a filthy crumb-filled carpetPox by *ghostlove
full of ground-in raisins and toast crumbs
wearing a yellow hard-hat several sizes too small
and I wouldn't be anywhere else.
I've been awake all night; cuddling and singing
stumbling from one room to another, desperate
to fix it all and failing in my every effort
but I wouldn't have been anywhere else.
We play monotonously. Car goes up, car goes down
and a small commanding voice directs the action
and I am tired, so tired I don't understand the game
but I wouldn't be anywhere else.
I receive a kiss, more snot than lips, without thinking
I wipe his nose and mouth with my hands, deposit
Hangin' Laundry I'm hangin' laundry on the lineHangin' Laundry by *ghostlove
in the sunshine, 'cause I can't afford the dryer
and we can't afford the fire that's comin'
to our planet if we don't watch what
we're usin', it's confusin' ain't it?
How the well-off bigwigs 'suited pigs'
can tell us to cut down while they're
drivin' all around in their thirsty monster cars
and flying up against the stars to places
where there's people dyin' for a drink
of water while they enjoy wine, and laughter.
Someone told me I think too much. I think we're out
of touch with reality. I clip the last peg in place
and see another private jet fly overhead.
I think too much, they said.
Blessed It's gonna be another one of thoseBlessed by *ghostlove
damn dull days, I guess
he says, sitting at the kitchen table
and I smile, reply
I can't express my gratitude
at having another one of these
damn dull days to spend
with you, and the world, we're messed
up, but somehow we can jest and play
out our lives, we calmed down,
no stress; he asks do I want tea?
I say yes. He puts the kettle on. We are blessed.
Slightly Blocked There's nothing quite so sombreSlightly Blocked by *ghostlove
as a virgin pad of paper,
which stares upon the writer;
tantalisingly unused.
Deceptively unmoving,
but still its challenge given
to the writer, set on proving
that her mind can find the words.
And oh! To be that writer
with her pen ready, a-quiver
to lay words upon that paper,
fill it all with singing prose.
But alas, this writer's broken,
with no words worthy of speaking,
so she writes this little poem
to all sympathetic ears.
One for the Girls (and guys...)This is not an article intended to be 'all about me', but in getting across my point, it needs to be a personal account. I wanted to post this in the hopes that it may get read by someone who is going through what I've been through and perhaps because of what they read, they seek proper help faster than I did.
Since I was about 15, I have suffered from endometriosis. I was not diagnosed until I was 28. I'm now 32, I've already had two surgeries and in a few months will be having a hysterectomy to stop this disease returning again.
What is Endometriosis?
http://www.endometriosis.org/endometriosis.html
"Endometriosis is a condition where t
Weekend to End Breast CancerIntroduction
For the past 5 years our very own $Moonbeam13 has been involved in supporting and raising money for The Weekend To End Breast Cancer event in Toronto.
She has done this in a fairly quiet and discreet way so we felt it was time to shed a bit more light on what exactly she does for this great cause.
To give a bit of background, in the past 4 years this organization has raised over 60 million dollars in donations and through this has made some landmark strides in advancing the research on breast cancer, which claims the lives of close to 50,000 women a year and about a quarter million women diagnosed per year.
This money does ma
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That is SO.... uhh... blafrffshaffle? (ducks out of claiming this true or false* 
Sta.sh
Love 
