This. Here. Now. I-

I don’t know how I feel about love.

I see the desperation around me.

The need for people to belong, never to be.

Why does that baffle me?

I’m astounded, flabbergasted, embarrassed.

Not for me, but for you.

I hope my befuddlement will one day hold the clue.

That I seem to need,

So that I can be free.

Stuck in this prison of my own making.

I don’t see the need for companionship.

Have I been burned too many times?

Have I missed my one person,

My destiny,

My sign?

I have no shrine.

I used to have dreams of how love would go.

But that turned out-

No.

I’m afraid of not feeling what everyone else does.

Am I broken?

Then why do I feel free?

Spreading my legs and throwing my head back in joy.

I’m not shackled down,

Ready to drown,

Packed to leave town.

-NR

 

 

 

La Dépendance Secrète Que Je-

It’s in the words.

This dream confused me.

For the life of me, I can’t let it be.

Our stomachs pressed together.

Dur et doux.

Why would that stick out to me?

Why should I be turned on by your stomach against my own?

My heart was racing, thighs and panties wet,

Ready to be your pet.

It was then I paid attention.

You whispered words in my ear.

Non-stop words.

Nonsensical, fast, slow, words.

With every word you spoke,

My mouth watered.

My skin pulsed.

My eyes dilated.

I wish I could remember the words you said to me.

I wish I could hold them close for the lonely nights.

I wish I could carry them with me like I do my sight.

It was the words.

The words.

Words.

-NR

 

 

 

 

I Didn’t Want To Breathe Out…..

I’m late.

In more ways than one.

I stand here in the night,

Waiting for that light.

That effervescent, unavoidable feeling,

That would explain this clear ceiling.

That’s been wheeling, stealing, taking all my feelings.

I’ve spent too much time kneeling.

My thoughts are jumbled.

I don’t know what to feel.

I want to say more,

But I’m not sure.

If I stay, I might become a bore.

I’d rather not be mentally sore.

No, I’d rather feel like folklore.

Unattainable, with a touch of womanly intrigue and lure.

-NR

Réalisation D’une Femme

You made it.

You reached that point in your life,

Where you’re done with the worry and strife.

You wished things stayed the same,

Not realizing that it was nothing but a game.

Gone are the days of blasting music from a busted car,

even though you remember those warm crazy nights from afar.

You did things that you now laugh about.

You danced until your feet throbbed.

You fell in love until you sobbed.

You made mistakes,

Which often ended in backaches.

Mais tu as grandi.

You’re no longer that bright-eyed pup.

Breathe in the fresh air,

Ignore the dare,

And take care.

Laugh at the ones before you,

Sit down and watch them stew,

While you catch a breath and take a brew.

Welcome to womanhood.

-NR

 

Juste Une Petite Catastrophe

I don’t like being torn.

I say yes, but I don’t mean it.

I say no, but eyes say otherwise.

It’s not fair.

Making you out to be a mind reader.

But it’s what I want.

I need for you to decide.

I need you to tell me otherwise.

Pouvez-vous voir ce que mon desir ardent pour moi me fait?

Say you’ll stay even when I scream at you to go.

Say yes even when I sound bitter and tell you no.

I’m a small disaster you see.

I don’t I’ll ever just be.