Devils Delight

Old fears, ugly feelings
helplessness

Memories of long past
vileness lingers

Better than a graham cracker
naivety of a child

Nightmares like horror films
specifics locked away

Remembrance of what
but not who

Empty, hollow, nothingness
broken right out the box

Left to the wolf
abandoned, alone

Innocence lost,
taken away too soon

TD, Mums nickname for someone. Stands for: Tricky Dicky

Do all men become the scum of the earth, when they don't get their way. Are they so far removed, in their selfishness that it no longer matters what the right thing to do is. Only what they want to do, for what ever reason. Is using any means necessary to get back at a person no longer a concern, when righteous indignation is involved. Or pride is sorely wounded.
Why do they believe what they do is OK, but God help them if their girlfriend/wife wants to do it too. Why do they project all of their fears and shortcomings on to their other half. Then have the gaul to blame said other half at every perceived slight. Why does it only take one female to screw with a guy but the next nine to pay for it. Women get screwed over time and again yet we foolishly try to be optimistic with the next. And with the 2:1 odds of women to men, even when their pride is dinged, they've already moved on to the next female. And always as the martyred victim.
How do I teach my girls that not all guys are jerks, when they are routinely exposed to them daily. My oldest 2 of them. What do I say to her when she tells me she feels like she's lost two fathers this year. She sees how he treats her differently and has heard that her aunt supposedly only has three nieces. I thank God her aunt told him straight out that she had four nieces. That my daughter, not his would always be her niece. Granted that was preceded by her also still claiming me as her sister. I wish it hadn't been said in front of my biggest baby girl but she was trying to illustrate that we were still family to her. What is it with having the inability to see past his own nose?? If you're not with me then you're against me.
Tonight my oldest finally broke down, I knew it was a matter of time before she would try to come to terms with that bit of information. As I held her in my arms I told her, it was said in anger. Designed to hurt me. And when heads clear he will find he never meant it. My heart wept with her. Had he been there I probably would have tried to scratch his eyes out. How dare he allow and encourage her to see him as her dad for over 10 years, then to act like it never meant anything. That night he truly became her step father in her eyes. When he is here he makes the motions, says the right words. He spends just about two hours a day in my house. (I claim it just on sheer volume of time I've spent here.) He eats, shits, shaves, showers, and changes. He expects to be lord of the manner then pisses and moans when not treated accordingly. Over buns no less.

The worst is the waiting. Waiting for the papers to be signed. Waiting for the ownership to change. Waiting for him to get the fuck out of my house!!

But most of all waiting for my life to begin again. Heaven forbid maybe even be a little happy.

For the time being, I'm not holding my breath. May 8th would have been our Tenth Anniversary. The girls still want to do something, as it is important to them. He suggested throwing a Separation Party!

What a guy!

....and I'm the Bad Guy

You behave like a little child.
Oblivious to everything around you.
Always expecting your way.
Regardless of others.

You play the martyred victim
While creating havoc and damage
Then lie and feign innocence
When called on it, you're just "playing the game"

You blame others for your downfall
Use words like inconvenienced, greedy and bitch
Are you that incapable of seeing past your nose
Does it escape you, that you are the direct cause of this

You claim ignorance, asking why? why? why?
Like I woke up and decided to make your life hell
I wonder when you will realise that it's NOT about YOU
I wonder if you will ever see what your disinterest has wrought

You'll take care of YOUR kids
It's still YOUR house
YOU'RE the boss
Yet you average two hours a day here

And in the next breath
You claim not to have lived her for half a year
You don't help YOUR kids with their lives
You don't clean up in YOUR house

I do that, you're never here long enuff
Or you can't be bothered
You waste my time with bullshit that's unnecessary
Then don't understand my anger and frustration

You think you had it bad when you're here
You've been picked at and screwed over
You think I've stayed silent because of guilt
You have no idea how wrong you are

When you move out and you have your money
My silence ends
I don't recommend you continue to play the victim
I won't allow it, I'm surprised your arrogance allows it

It may sound like I'm saving up anger
To blow when you're gone, but that's not it
I simply won't tolerate your snide little remarks
Those days of keeping the peace for the girls will be done

Here is a wake up call...
You are going to find out what I really think
Of your actions, your lies and your lack of moral fortitude
You aren't going to like what I have to say

I expect you to spin things, call me a liar
Then I will remind you that given the choice of
Being a fool or a liar, you chose "playing the game"
Would you know the truth if it smacked that smug look off your face?

Image is everything to you
Your vanity and arrogance astounding
But, how can you be so hard done by if I'm not the bad guy
Thankfully, people are starting to see, I'm not the person you've painted me to be

Sux 2 B U Picasso!!!

15 Years

Do you see me, from up on high
Or have you gone on with your existence there
They say things move more quickly @ home
Unlike the plodding drudgery here

So perhaps a blink for you
Is years for me
The sluggishness of measured time
Not a concern for you, two more and I'm there with you

In those years,
My life has spiralled
In many different directions
Some good, some bad, but all in your abscence

There were many times
I could have used your
Level headiness and objectivity
Your ability to make sense of the things I could not

And still can't.....
I want to be a child again
With you on the sidelines, watching after me
That's what you were there for, if I needed you

You would be there
To quietly to help out
No judgements, no voiced opinions
Just there, listening offering a comment here or there

When you were asked
You would explain things
I didn't or couldn't understand
Either from personal experience or observation

Ahh Dad, I'm tired
I want to pack it in and call it a day
I don't want to be strong anymore
I'm not, I've just gotten to faking it pretty well

Most of all
I want to go out for coffee
At Mr. C's and shoot the shit with you
And feel just for a little while all is good in the world

I miss riding in the truck
While you sang Thunder Rolls to the radio
I still get misty hearing The Dance, it reminds me of you
I even miss you arming the truck before I'd get in, annoyingly loud as it was

I hate that you
Never saw my girls
I was the only one, you never held
A grandchild for, I was the youngest child just starting @ life

I wish I could
Talk to you, tell you about
The chaos in my life, how badly I'm doing
So you could tell me, that's what your there for, and make it better

Misery Loves Company

It's the end of a work night. My eyes are burning, my throat is sore. Yet I'm all keyed up. This is usually how I feel at the end, after doing a gig. I've eaten, and now I'm plopped down in from of the computer. Checking my messages, playing games, returning pokes, creeping in other peoples posted lives.

You've beaten my score once again in on or another games we play. But I play that game a couple of times, beating yours not once but twice. Feeling just a tad triumphant, I utter a mental "a-ha!" and visualize doing a victory dance. Looks like I'm on top. Body's too tired to really move, too bad my brain won't heed it's example. I hear a funny sound to my left and realise that Dumbass is chewing on his bars again. I guess you can't expect too much from a mammal with the brain the size of a corn flake. I'm watching him climb his bars as Closer starts to play. I smile remembering an earlier conversation.

"Randy" was the word used. Possible, but the lyric "I want to fuck you like an animal" comes, and I laugh out loud thinking, I wouldn't be that picky. I listen to the sexy sensual beat of the song and think about being on top. Oh gawd brain, shut up and go on to something else. It pretty much ignores me, giving me teasers of memories. The taste of your lips. The smell of your hair. The heavy lidded look you get. That sound you make, when you really like what I'm doing.

As the music plays I start thinking of the next time I'll see you. What I'd love to do if this song plays. I'd want to dance with you real close, kiss your neck, up behind your ear while gyrating my hips in time with the tempo. Pull your head down for a kiss and see just how hard I could make that cock of yours. I'm kinda curious what you would do. Would you want me to stop, or would you grab my ass and push up against me?? Would you want to fill me, putting and end to the sweet ache of desire and need?? Delicious thoughts of previous posts fill my head. I Need You Tonight starts to play and I can only shake my head at the sheer irony of it.

Groaning in self induced frustration and throbbing unbearably, I ponder how much longer I will last before I get to the "Fuck It or Kill It" point. Not that I would do either. Fucking being for hook ups and killing being wrong if you get caught. Ahh, till I get to savour the equisite pleasure of your undivided attention, I am reduced to dirty ideas and naughty blogs. And God help me I have plenty of both....some of the things I want to do....damn damn damn...oh screw this - fuck fuck fuck fuck......grrrrrr!

Just so I'm not the only one climbing the proverbial walls enjoy the pictures.

She's got Legs

Was considering rewriting a post we discussed, but it's quarter to 4 and I'm getting tired, so I thought I'd torture you instead. Pictures worth a thousand words, I'm pretty sure I've never written that many in one post. This pic says it all:

I'm ready when you're ready!!

Happy Bunny Day....enjoy.

Sometimes Fighting Can be fun

We're fighting, arguing more aptly. Can't even remember over what. Something inane and banal. Hurling angry words like daggers. Not because we mean them, but out of sheer frustration. We each can't see the others view. Maybe we're just too much in the moment to try.

You're turning, getting ready to walk away as you are wont to do. I decide this time it's not going to happen. You've done it before, and I hate it. So I grab on to your arm, try to spin you around. Fail miserably, you are bigger than me. You try to shake off my hands, but I'm not letting go. I can be just as stubborn as you. Celtic heritage, a source of pride and contention. I step in front of you. You tell me to move, I refuse. You quite literally pick me up to move me, big mistake! I wrap my legs around you waist and ask what you plan on doing now. You're mad, really mad, yet I trust you not to hurt me. Deep down inside I know you would never injure me intentionally.

Stepping outside myself I watch you glare at me, now refusing to speak. And all I can think is, damn that's hot. I'm wrapped around you, rubbing up against certain parts and indecisive of if I want to kill you or kiss you. I'm tired of fighting, I hate feeling like this towards you. Time for a change of tactic.

Impressed that you can support my weight, I tell you that I'm done talking to you too. I move your hair. My hand gets caught in it, go figure. I start kissing your neck, high behind your ear. You flinch away, asking what the hell I think I'm doing. That's when I remind you, you aren't speaking to me, remember. I go back to kissing your neck, nibbling here and there. You are now trying to remove me in earnest. Only problem is the more you try to shake me off the more bumping and grinding gets doing. And you may be pissed at me, but anger and passion go hand in hand. Your body evidently understands this principle, betraying it's own agenda.

I grab a handful of the curls at the back of your head, pull firmly out of the way, and bite just under the hair line. You suck in your breath as the beast twitches. You grab my hair pulling my head to face yours. You tell me to stop. I look you in the eye and very evenly say "No." I make to go at your neck again, but you still have a hold of my hair. Preventing me from moving. I pull but you have a pretty good grip. I watch your eyes defiantly. I decide to fight fire with fire, and start to slowly pull harder on your hair. You look vaguely amused for a moment, pulling a touch harder. OK now it hurts but I'll be damned if I'm letting you know that. Unbidden a small sound escapes my mouth. You raise your eyebrows at me as my eyes narrow. You loosen your grip a tad, figuring you've made your point. We're both breathing heavily, trying to stare the other down. Something flickers in your eyes.

Instead of pushing me away you're pulling to you hard. You grind you mouth into mine. Forcefully thrusting your tongue into my mouth. Almost like you're punishing me. I push back with my tongue just as hard, and nip at your lip. You start kissing and chewing your way down my neck. There will be marks left, but I don't care. Your hands grasp at my bum, digging your fingers in, pushing me roughly into your very hard erection. And that pretty much sends me over the edge. I don't care that you're mad at me, I can't even think of what it was I was fighting with you about. All I know is that I want you in the worst way.

I claw at the back of your shirt, trying to get it off. If it were possible I'd probably shred the damn thing. Your hands up my shirt doing the finger snap to undo my bra. Man I hate that you can do that so easily. I have the sensation of falling and feel the couch beneath me.. I finally get your shirt off, mine being a memory along with my bra. Before I can do anything you snag my wrists and pin them above my head. Sadly, your left hand is still stronger than my hands put together. I look up at you and your eyes seem to say, "you started this" You lean down for what I assume will be another hard kiss, but you lightly kiss my lips. Little nips and touches, teasing me. No real kiss just the idea of one. Then you begin to torment me in sweetly killing me in thousands of different ways with wanting. The worst being not being able to touch you.

Your lips caress the sides of my neck while your fingers deftly play with my nipple rings. Your mouth on my breasts, your tongue circling my puckered aerola. Your teeth pulling, not hard, on my rings. Breath hisses thru my teeth. I start fighting to free my hands. Not being able to feel your skin, taste the salty sweetness of your skin was undoing me. Then you speak. "If you keep that up, I'll stop" Holy hell what a dilemma. I say your name, half plea, half frustration.

You kiss my lips, moving your mouth over mine, but not long enuff for a deeper kiss. You once told me you could remove a girls pants with one hand, I didn't believe you. Yet again you've just proven me wrong. I really hate it when you're right.....bastard! Your pants are still on but I can feel all of you. I decide to do a little squirming....why should I be the only one suffering so exquisitely. But damn you're quick and you use your knee to nudge apart my legs. You run your hand up the back of my left thigh over my butt and tug my unders down. They go the way of my pants. I feel your fingers brush the juncture between my legs, then begin to explore the folds that lie there. I hear a whining whimpering sound and realize it's me. I'm panting, not even fighting anymore, becoming mindless with need. Finally your kiss me, really kiss me. Your tongue sliding against mine, dipping into the recesses of my mouth.

I notice something very hot and hard rubbing up and down my nether regions. The look on your face tells me you're rubbing yourself on my clit. Your grip on my hands loosens and I reach up grabbing your hair pulling you to me. I whisper in your ear how much I want you. One step away from begging you thrust all of that glorious maleness of you inside me. For a moment it burns but my body beyond comprehending that. Cupping my buttocks you tilt my hips to enable deeper penetration. Groaning at the intensity I hang on, while you rock your thrusts into my body. Each one taking me higher and higher. And you with me. I exploded into a myriad of tingling orgasmic nerves. I could have sworn I saw stars. You finished almost at the same time. And we lay there sticky and sweaty, breathing heavily. As I stroke you hair, as i am wont to do, I lay there wondering....what were we fighting about??

Angry Rant, Giving in to the Need to get Things Off my Chest.

***Warning, this is a purely selfish bit. designed to help me feel better. Maybe understand things I feel I can't say out loud.***
I quit, I just fuckin' quit. Starting to wonder why I even bother in the first place. I mean seriously, I go out of my way to make things as easy as possible and I get shit regardless. I get picked at, little under the breath comments. Especially designed to make me feel like crap. I ignore them and remind myself just a little longer. Just a little longer and I can start my life....again. Hang in there and I won't have to hear whatever lie's been cooked up for whatever reason.

I'm tired, stressed and probably wouldn't get out of bed if it weren't for my girls. I'm too old for this fucking drama. I'm sick of having to prove again and again I am who I say I am. I hate that people would rather believe lies I've supposedly said than having the balls to ask me. I hate being lied to and I detest it when others perpetuate lies about me.

The worst is, no matter what I do, it's not good enuff. I'm not worth the effort, or I am good enuff until something better comes along, convient. I'm tired of friends who aren't friends. I'm tired of an arrogant fuck playing the victim. I don't even know who I can trust anymore, who's playing me or being straight up with me. I hear the words leaving people's mouthes but never see the actions to back them up.

Thru all of this I've begun to reliase what a god damned fool I am. That when it comes down to it, people like the public persona I wear. The smart mouthed, sexy, understanding.."oh no worries" person they see on the stage or just out. People say they want the truth, and don't like it when I give it. Nobody wants to really know how things are. They don't want to know how worried I am for the future. How badly I'm likely to screw up my kids. How stupid I feel when going out on a limb lands me on my ass. How sick I am of being painted the bad guy. How sometime I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and bash the shit out of some people. How I cry myself to sleep more often than not. Wondering if I should just say to hell with it all and invest in some good personal toys. Would it even make a difference?? Maybe I'm too broken, too fucking useless to be good for anyone. Maybe it is true that the only person you can rely on is yourself.

I quit, I'm empty. I don't see the point in trying anymore. It's pretty much gotten me no where fast. People like a show, I'll give them a show. I'll smile, dress and act the way they've come to expect. Shouldn't be too hard, they all thought I had the perfect mariage. Being broke, I'll only be going to work, and helping out from time to time. Real friends will come to my shows, others will remember me from time to time, I'm sure. Probably just think I'm busy doing this and that. Who knows maybe out of sight out of mind. Some probably won't notice at all.

I'm a Fucking Fool

How do I tell him how much it hurts
When he doesn't want to see me
How do I tell him how it rips my insides
When he says he couldn't be bothered

How do I tell him I feel not worth the effort
When he says he doesn't have the energy
How do I tell him how crappy it feels
To be dropped, to talk to someone else

Would he notice
If I stopped trying
Would he care
That my heart is breaking...right now

Does he not see
That I've been played the fool already
Does he not realise
That my truth has scared him once

He asks for the truth
I am unable to give it to him
He is too fuckin' tired
And I am too afraid

So I wait
For him to want to see me
Not convenience, same place - same time
Makes the effort

Then,
Then I will tell him my truth
I will take that chance
And hope he will not run

If he does,
Then perhaps I was wrong
It would not be the first time
Nor do I expect it to be my last

But I grow weary of this game
And others fear and insecurities
Yet I am loyal in my attraction
Regardless of if it's returned or not

I grow tired of feeling
Unwanted, alone
Wondering if things will change...ever
If I'm even good enuff