Tag: Sex

It’s Only Natural…

Arms surround me, heated and huge, like the sun.

You pull me in close so I’m surrounded by your body

Like warm air on a beach day. I bask in our energy.

Your shirt comes off and my fingertips are drawn to your skin;

Your body is an art form I can’t tear myself away from.

My hands travel down your chest like I adventure on rock trails and my eyes shine just as brightly as my fingers skip over the chiseled trails your muscles form.

I’m giddy with curiosity and the innocent sparkle in my eyes causes you to wonder.

We wander for a while in the chasms of each other’s eyes and minds.

I want those arms to hold me down while your chest presses against my naked body.

Press that rocky path of muscles and hot sunshine skin against me while I struggle.

I’ll make you beg and whimper with longing till you wrestle me in place.

Make me scream.

Love Affair with Death

I feel nothing. I only hear.

I hear the bored world telling me

I’m nothing special.

I hear death, charming and strong.

It tells me to come…

Beckons me with its fingers

The whisper, so close to my ear.

I shiver.

My heart beats faster as Death begs it to find peace.

“Come.”

My body longs for it,

My mind tingles.

Let me lie with you.

I come for death.

I rest at last.

Parched

Rivers plan their course,

Following my quiet footsteps.

But I am a broken force,

Dragging along the shattered remains of what’s left.

I thirst.

Rain throws itself from the skies

To slide down my skin,

My lips refuse to part.

Only my eyes join in—

I weep.

Waves rise up and crash hard to reach me,

But I climb the highest rooftop— Scarred.

I’ve drowned before.

Each inhalation of water teaches me,

I’m cursed.

Life sits peaceful as an unstirred lake,

Fills me to my brim with flavourless, tepid, nothing

Numbs me till I cannot wake.

I long for it to shake, earthquake… something!

I sleep.

…And I dream of cold well water swallowed and streaming into my feelingless soul.

I shiver

The New Antidepressant: Sex

I got off the antidepressants about a year and a half after starting them. I was angry to have been put on bipolar medication with so little analysis and counselling. Though several friends I had confided in had agreed that it was a correct diagnosis, I denied it.

I didn’t need the medication anymore, I’d found the key to the happy hormones I lacked: sex.

After 20 years of having no interest in physical contact I joined Tinder, met a stranger and lost my virginity to him on our third time meeting. I’ve heard that people who’ve experienced trauma end up forcing themselves to relive it over and over again.

Sex became something I needed. Without it I would spiral into depression and experience wild mood swings. Yet, I did not remain with any of my partners long.