Friday, June 15, 2012
They want to eat me alive. That's how they look at me. I feel like a curvaceous, wanton woman on the outside. Inside I am magma, razor wire and poison smoke. He infected me with his disease. I am now numb. No one can touch me. I used to throw my arms out to embrace and love. Now I turn away, cold and angry. I feel this rumbling storm inside me. I just have to paint, dance and write it out. An old friend came calling with crackling fire stories. I am indifferent, aloof, unimpressed. What a pity. This gipsy cowgirl craves release, revolution, seduction and to seduce. I am empty, hurt and dangerous. I don't know what to do with this power, this horrible, cold blade in my mouth. I'm afraid I will shred all suitors who dare to take my hand. Best keep to myself during this time. I'm sure I learned how to be more guarded after what happened. At least there's that. However I never thought in a million years I'd have to fight myself this way. I am strong. I am a survivor, but it's going to take a lot of self discipline to forge a new path to hope.