Forever Yours


Forever Yours

You helped me to stand on my own.

You publicly and privately protected and nurtured me.

Your “love” and “guidance” were steady and sheltering.

Your passion was severe.

You own parts of me, and those parts are a daily reminder of your love.

A “me” we can all live with, is the “me” you helped create.

I will always love you.

Even when you fall in love with someone else.

Yes, we can survive.

Yes, we’re each getting stronger.

Yes, I am happier, as are you.

Part of me is still forever yours.

A small glimmer of hope prevailed.

A life for each of us is possible.

Healthy relationships are possible.

We are each smart.

We are each valuable.

We are both good at so many things.

Can’t we love again?

Can’t we accept each other again?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes

No to the last two.

Our love, isn’t “again”. Neither of us want’s that “again”.

We have a new love. A love that values, appreciates, and supports our differences.

Stronger than any hate, my love for you

Is forever yours.

Love


I love the moonlight, and long for it to caress my naked skin.

I love intelligent conversations with anyone.

I love orgasms. Don’t you?

I love that feeling you get when flirting.

I love the taste of fresh pineapple.

I love dreaming.

I love being capable of doing things.

I love the sound and smell of rain.

I love dancing in my wheelchair (now if I could just come up with some better moves).

I love being valued.

I love the way my kids light up my life.

I love being the town cripple.

I love being able to cry without judgement.

I love words, and the fact that they can reach across miles and touch your very soul.

I love baths.

I love weed a little too, just saying.

I love the adventures my mind goes on, even though my body doesn’t cooperate.

I love Blue Bunny Birthday Party ice cream.

I love writing something that gets me wet.

I love the taste of freedom.

Something’s wrong, and mini update.


I’m going to be only occasionally dropping by this blog until February. Got real writing to do. Mostly contest sort of stuff, but I’m excited about it even if none of my stuff wins.

Sometimes writings just come out without having a place to call home, so in those cases I’ll bring them here. There also might be times like tonight when I write 2 things for one category and decide to enter the “less normal” one into the contest, so you all get to preview the runner up.

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Something’s Wrong

You asked me if something is wrong.
It is, but we’ll be alright.
Sometimes everything is perfect.
Other times I remember.

Having fun with you.
Making love to you.
Being one with you.

If I wasn’t who I am…
If you weren’t who you are…
If life hadn’t sucker-punched us
And helped make us the monsters we’ve become…

I cry for what we could have had.
For what will never be.
I miss us.

The Mouse and the Motorcycle


Due to content that some readers may find offensive, viewer discretion is advised.

NOT:

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Once upon a time there was a mouse.

Due to privacy practices, I can’t tell you her real name, but let’s call her Bonnie.

Bonnie was a normal mouse doing normal mouse-things, except for one little difference. Bonnie had rabies. She occasionally freaked out and bit people. She also had an annoying habit of foaming at the mouth. During moments of sanity though, she was a mouse with big dreams and ideas.

One of her ideas was to start a movement to change the way mice were killed. She figured why suffer the agony of being poisoned with arsenic, or mutilated by a spring trap, or slowly starving to death on a glue trap? Mice should be able to turn themselves in to the Almighty Homeowner and request a more humane death.

This idea was met by those in her mice community with shock and horror. They had difficulty understanding the concept, especially since it came from a crazy mouse.

Lucky for this mouse though, it had a understanding motorcycle friend.

Due to privacy practices I can’t tell you the motorcycle’s real name, but let’s call him “Tommy“.

Tommy and Bonnie had a mutually beneficial relationship. Tommy would go on rides enjoying his freedom, and when he came back, Bonnie would scratch his seat and get the dirt out of his handlebars while he patiently listened and supported her crazy “choose how you die” ideas.

It was an unconventional motorcycle/mouse relationship, but it worked for them.

One day Bonnie had another brilliant idea. She would become the spokesperson for the “stop the insanity” movement, which was a group of mice, with and without rabies, who advocated the use of catnip for treating the painful symptoms of rabies as well as enjoying the buzz from consuming the herb.

She was excited to tell her friend about this latest idea and the extreme measures she was willing to go through to advocate for this cause. As she ran across the street to tell Tommy, a motorcycle came around the corner and ran Bonnie over.

The end.

Moral of the story? Even crazy mice with insane pipe dreams don’t deserve to be squashed.

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