Queen Feelings

Queen Feelings

Are my feelings true?

 As true

 as they get.

Go through anything for you, tears, blood and sweat.

You’ve got me on a cloud right now, hope I don’t descend.

Got my emotions tired, want to be much more than friends.

Bringing aspects to your life that you had never seen,

My heart, a desolate desert, turned into a budding, flowering green.


I don’t care if I’m the King, so long as you are my reigning Queen.

You turned my life if nightmares, into a living dream.

Take your time, think it over, 

 don’t answer right away;

Just realize Queen, you are the Ray of sunlight in my day

DISTANCE & A MAN’S HEART~ from a woman’s perspective…

DISTANCE & A MAN’S HEART~ from a woman’s perspective…

All I can say is that distance makes my heart grow fonder.

Not your typical romantic novel, but it’s in the same  genre.

Just the smell of you, can stimulate my Heart.  

Just the thought of  you, inspires My every thought.

You  Somehow turned me into a respectable man, all of my demons disappeared, like the beer in my can.

Love means nothing, unless its shown through  actions. Otherwise, its just a word, that can drive men to distraction.

What you give me is much more than satisfaction, it can  only can be described as pure  sexual attraction.

The most slamming girl can not compete with you, nothing fazes me except other means eyes on you. 

Then…

My knee’s start to quiver, and I begin to shake, the emotions running through me feel close to hate.

JEALOUS.

Hell yes I would take that cats last breath, if he even partially begins to stare at Your breasts.

I trust you with all of my heart, so please baby girl, don’t tear my trust apart.

I was not living before, yet now that I’ve met you, my cluttered life, no longer feels askew. 

A new beginning, a fresh start, and its all because I gave you my 💙. 

I 💙 my liFe.

The Spider

The Spider

A two legged spider came out of the blue, like a prize fighter, looking to duel. 

SHE spun her web without emotion; a trap of pain, chaos and dysfunction.

Her wicked beauty led me in, this was the beginning of the end.

SHE wrapped me up in lies and deceit, and she left me hanging till it was time to eat.

SHE drained my heart and left my soul to die.

Then coldly she threw what was left to the side.

SHE  will repair her web, till it looks like new, and lay in wait for the next to fool.

So be real careful, look before you leap, stay away from the web where this spider does creep.

A Mom’s Love…a poem

A Mom’s Love…a poem

God’s calling you home, and I must let you go.

I’ll cherish every moment, I want you to know.

You’ve wiped all my tears but just once again,  you’re more than my mother, your my very best friend.

There’s things that I’ll miss, and I will everyday.

I won’t say goodbye, cause I want you to stay. Just know that I love you and we’re never far apart, you’ll be closer than ever cause you’ll live in my heart

So I’ll kiss your cheek, and hold onto your hand; everything happens for a reason, I just wish I’d understand.

Now hold me closer, let me feel your soft touch,

Your the best mom for me, and I will miss you so much.

You are my angel and it’s now time to go fly.

So remember my smile and don’t see me cry.

We’ve had ups and downs of course through he years, but the love you’ve shown me, outweighs all the tears.

I couldn’t be prouder to say you belong to me, we’ll meet again in heaven, just wait and see.



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TIME…

I thought we’d have more time…” this single thought has run through my mind ever since I found out that my mom is dying. Normally, I am one of those people that can handle bad news. One of those ‘strong’ individuals that handles life’s many curve balls with head held high with the grace of a lady-but not this time. This news rocked me to my very core. My heart broke that day. I can not imagine my life without her. 

My parents adopted me at three days old.  They never kept my adoption  secret, for which  I am grateful. Now that I am a mother myself, I have first hand knowledge on the instantaneous  bond of love between birth mother and child. The immediate bond that naturally occured the moment my eyes met my son’s, was not quite so naturally occurring in my non- biological union. The bond I share with my mother was shaped and molded over time. It was formed because of her constant love and attention. And now she is going to leave. I always thought we would have more time. Time to talk. Time to forgive each other’s shortcomings. Time to laugh, cry, yell, and hug. More time to love. 

I have lost many of my friends and relatives through the years, and each will always have a place in my heart, but this is different. This is my mom. 

She is an extraordinary mom. Really. This woman stepped in and took over the care of my son, when my bad choices led me astray, and she still loved me. This woman that always did the best she knew how to do while raising me, took it a step further. She was a good mother, but she was an amazing grandmother. 

I wrote this post because quite a lot of people I know are mad at, fighting with, or have just lost touch with their mother’s. I’m writing this to tell those people that it’s not to late, call or write or visit your families now, while they are here. Now, while there is still time…Tell them you love them before it’s to late.

The One That Wasn’t

The One That Wasn’t

Presently, I am of an age where I tend to find myself set in my ways. Truth be told, I know what I like, and what I don’t like. Blind dates are definitely on my ‘don’t like’ list.  I thought I was done, that I would never have to suffer through yet another awkward, anxiety ridden first date, ever again. Until recently, my heart has only skipped a beat for one man. I always assumed we had forever, and you know what happens when one assumes- shit happens, with a side of mental illness. I tried to hold on to him tighter than Kate held Leo in Titanic, but it was not enough. I lost him, his own mind turned on him, against him. My heart was utterly shattered. It felt as if my whole world had collapsed in on itself.

But I have got off topic, this is about the one that ran away, not the one that faded away.

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For two solid years after we parted, I spent a good majority of my time attempting to convince myself that being utterly and completely alone, forever, was actually going to be fun. As a matter of fact, it was during one of these self, self help sessions when ‘he’, quite literally, strolled into my house, and much to my suprise and annoyance, straight into my heart. I soon learned that he was here to visit his cousins, who happen to be my roomate’s. Which is absolutly fine, excecpt for two solid years not a single male had turned my head, and this one had. There was something about him, an arrogance maybe. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it absolutely terrified me.

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I decided to play it quiet and cool, because I had no idea what to do with these new yet unfamiliar feelings, or if he even felt them. We would joke and laugh together more than I even realized at the time, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20. I willed my heart with every ounce of strength I could muster not to fall for this man. I truly tried, fought tooth and nail actually. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and apparently, mine wanted his.

Strangely, it is as if the closer we got, the more needy and emotionally demanding he became. I would be in my room watching a movie and ask him to join me. He would say he felt that I did not really want him there, and walk out . I could spout examples like this all night long, but I bet you get the point. I sure did. I had red flags popping up all over my heart and mind. Now, a long time ago I would have ignored them, but time teaches, and eventually, even I learn when to walk away.
Turns out, I did not have to, when I walked out on the porch to explain all of this, he simply stood up and disapeared into the darkness. Ran into the darkness truthfully. Another lesson learned. I am not that girl who is clingy, needy, and helpless. Apparently, some men require these qualities from their women. Ladies, please do not pretend to be or do these things to please an undeserving ego.  Please be strong. There are plenty of fish in the sea.image

365 Days to Master All Positions of the Kama Sutra

365 Days to Master All Positions of the Kama Sutra

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I was pondering what type of blog post would catch my attention this morning, while half listening to the random conversations of my friends, when the words ‘Julia’ and ‘sex’ caught my attention. I remember the movie ‘Julie & Julia’ about the woman who blogged her experience cooking five hundred something recipes in a year. This caused me to wonder if anyone had ever thought to blog about mastering all of the positions of, say, the Karma Sutra, or tantric sex.
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Now, at this point I am lacking a few important things to complete this challenge myself. One of the most important being someone to master the positions witimage

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Really I have no idea how many positions there even are in the Kama Sutra. I can say that I have flipped through many books on sexual positions, as well as tried quite a few myself at one time or another. I feel like it would make for very interesting reading, as well as create a very exciting sex life for whomever I talk into actually doing thisimage

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I fully intend to research all topics of sex and their many facets, pick one, find a willing partner, or a couple of volunteers, then start my new blog. Over the course of one year I
will cover, in detail, photos included, all of the sexual positions offered by the Kama Sutra. If there are any thoughts or suggestions please leave in the commentimage

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on.

INSANITY

INSANITY

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What i feel for him now borders on insanity. I mean, is it natural for such a positive, life loving woman like me to feel such a charge, such a physical reaction to his mere presence?  This reaction cant be normal. Even now, almost two decades after our first encounter, regardless of the absolute hell we have made it through, I still have an almost visceral reaction to every look or word he directs at me.
I’m absolutly certain that those of you reading this are thinking, “why is this even an issue? Grab hold and never let go.” Which is exactly what I crave to do and exactly what I wish I could do. Here’s the rub. If you read some of my other posts, then you may have some idea as to what the ever growing, ever evolving barrier between not only him and I, but him and everyone else is. If not, allow me to enlighten you.  He is sick.  Very sick.  Mental illness, schizophrenia to be exact.  It has slowly, but very accurately, stolen him from me. Piece by piece and memory by memory. The man that I fell madly In love with at first sight, is now gone. image

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I am a rare breed when it comes to love and relationships. If I had to compare my idea of commitment to something, it would be as if I were the captain of a sinking ship. Well, I am that captain that goes down with his ship. Or at least for the last 2 decades i have been. And now it’s reached clutch time, sink or swim. I want to swim, but my heart and loyalty tells me to go down with the ship.
My inspiration for this post stems from a 4 day period.  I spent them with him. It broke my heart into a million pieces to wittness the tremendous amount of torment and pain that he is in. He is now a prisoner in his own mind, and as I quickly learned, there is no penetrating the walls he has unknowingly constructed all around his tortured world. The voices control his every nuance and action now. In the the begining he used to try to hide the fact that he heard them, but as I found out while in the shower, he can no longer distinguish fact from fiction. In fact, it almost seems to me that the voices and people he sees are more real to him than reality. And if being ignored is not painful enough, now he says things like “They hurt me all the time”. But the one statement that he made during our brief, four day visit, sent chills down my spine. It was not even the words, but the conviction behind them. He calmly stated that it would all be ok soon, because he was going to blow his brains out, and that he was looking forward to the silence.
I have begged and begged him to get help, I have told his father about this new development, as he also knows firsthand how sick he is. His mother shot herself at about his age. What can I do? Please, any and all advice is needed and welcome. The clock is ticking.

A Letter to My Son – 2

A Letter to My Son – 2

A Letter To My Son

Dear Rivers,image

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I may not have been a perfect mom, but I tried to be. I was only 21 with limited life experience. I gave you my all.

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Years flew by, I fed you and bathed you and clothed you. I bought you lots of leggos, pokemon cards, video games, and toys.

I sang for you, read for you, and taught you all I know. You are my boy, my precious, baby boy~ and in many ways, you always will be.

I woke early, (most of the time) to send you to school. I stroked your forehead and back when you were sick. I always knew when you were not feeling well, because you’d let me do these things. You were never very cuddly when you were well. image

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I paid for heat to keep you warm, and lights to show your way. I stared at you for days and days, after you were born. I didn’t want to miss anything. I adored you.

I kept you safe. I kept you clean. I soothed you when you cried. I let you stay up late and watch TV, or movies in your room.

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We sometimes argued as you grew. You formed opinions of your own. I tried to teach you right from wrong, and how to respect others.

I hugged you and kissed you at least three times, every day. You couldn’t leave for school without my hug and kiss. Remember doing homework after school? Hugging and kissing me goodnight? Reading stories at bedtime?gimage

I tried to right the mistakes my parents made with me, who were, and still are, non-demonstrative. I told you “I love you” constantly; daily, hourly even, always, because I do. I love you. 

I love you!

When you were small, I made up a rhyme about the ‘big moon’. I made it up on the spot, while we were walking in the dark, to distract you, as you were always so active and wiggly. The day came when I wrote down the words, and eventually realized that I think of it and you, every time I see the moon.

I support you in the decisions you make. I encouraged you to be great. When you were thirteen or fourteen and wanted to come home after misbehaving with your friends one night during a sleepover way across town. I listened as you told me what had occured. I told you I’d always be there for you, and it was my bad choices that took me away. I will always be sorry. I can never get the time I missed back again.

I am so very sorry Rivers.
Please find it in your heart to forgive me, so I miss no more of life’s precious moments.

When you started high school, I was not there. I wrapped myself in a blanket, and cried. Wishing things were different. I’m sorry.

I tried to be the best single mother I could be to you, my only child.

I sacrificed many aspects of my life to enhance yours. I did this many times, for many years.

I loved you from the moment I felt you inside my belly, flailing your tiny arms.

When you lost your teeth, I became the Tooth Fairy. I was Santa and the Easter Bunny, too. You never knew, until I told you.

I dressed you up on Halloween, and took you out trick-or-treating, because that’s what good moms do. Do you recall our ritual of checking the candy when we got home, to make sure it was safe? I did everything in my power to protect you.

Each time we had to move from one placeto another, I made endless preparations to ensure a seamless transition. I explained things to you, preparing you the best that I could for what was to come. I wanted you to feel secure. As an adult, I hope you were.

Yet now you pretend not to know me. You did not even want me at your high school graduation. I understood. But it hurt. I forgive you. It was your first outright rejection of me. I hope to never feel that pain again. Please forgive me. I am so very sorry.

At a young age, I taught you to do laundry. You were in charge of socks. You had fun matching them. As you grew, you graduated to face cloths, underwear, and towels. You were a big help, you know. I was surprised when you refused to let me launder your teenage clothes, and was impressed with the excellent care you took, and still take, with your wardrobe. I’ve never seen anyone iron like you! When you trusted me to sew the holes, I felt needed again. I loved those moments, even though I hate sewing!

Because I have eating and weight issues, and have had them all my life, I never wanted you to worry about weight. Ridicule and self-loathing were not things you were going to experience! The healthy habits you formed early on in life have helped you become the strong, young man you are today. Do you still prefer yogurt over ice cream? Apples over potato chips? Granola bars over chocolate bars? I think you do. You go running enough! You do it faithfully, and I’m so proud. You’ve worked long and hard for your muscles, your abs, your rock-hard body, seemingly made of steel.

Remember our little, plastic, red, first-aid kit? My heart swelled when you told me you brought one to the beach and when you went camping (or was it hiking?) with those girls. Your foresight and sensibility astonishes me. Maybe I wasn’t perfect, but I tried hard to be the best single mom I could be. I was still so young when I had you. I was only twice your age once. I was 18 and in pain, physically, when you were forced into this world. I was 35 and in pain, mentally. You I remember, too, how crazy I was. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know I put you through hell.

When you were six and came home with a “D is for Daddy” father’s day card, you questioned me. After our conversation, I questioned you, asking you what you would rather have: a daddy who always yelled and hurt us or a mommy who loved you with all her heart. “I just want you, Mom,” was your response. I’ll never forget that, as long as live. I just want you, son, too. I just want you.

I love, and always will love, you. You’ll be my baby forever, even though you are a grown man now. I hope I will always recognize your face and your voice. A book I read recently about one woman’s struggles with dementia has prompted me to write and share this. It touched me in explicable ways. The book? “I Will Never Forget.”

I want you to know my feelings and thoughts while I can still communicate them. I never want you to wonder how I felt, or have unanswered questions. You are my single-most biggest achievement. I kept us both alive despite a huge lack of money to do so. I may have gambled, done drugs, and a few other things you hate me for, but I did try to be a good mother to you, and for you, as well as a friend. I’m not perfect, but I love you. Please, always remember that.

Don’t forget me, son, when I am gone. Maybe through my writing, I’ll live on.

Now, it’s your turn to be a good son.

Love always,
Mom

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