I want you broken, battered, and beat. I want you on your back unable to stand. Its more convenient for me. It satisfies my needs. My impulse to help. My desire to please. Is it selfish? Maybe. Everthing about this poem is selfish. It’s meaning. It’s orgin. Just writing these words are completely and totally
Month: January 2016
Don’t really want to blog. So, I wrote this poem. Share. Dream. Live.
I need to write a blog today. I wanted to write about me. Me. Me. Me. ME. But I can’t. Because I finished a book called Fuck Love and it was so fucking amazing I can’t be all about me. I must give props to Tarryn Fisher. You make pain so beautful. You write words
Lunam, book one I just sent off the manuscript for my second book. It’s totally not like my first one. It’s a fantasy set in reality. If that makes any kind of sense. It has wolves, and hot guys, and unwanted pregnancies. It’s all over the place and it’s fucking awesome! The book is called Lunam. Look