Love, Sex, Laughing...

..I crave all of those, I'm never satisfied, I'm addicted, like I'm addicted to music, hugs, tea and disaster. I want my white virgin-dress stained by coffee-stains, your coffee-stains. I want to smell your sweat on my skin and have the taste of sex in my mouth. I'm a submissive whore, but only if you let the beast out. Only if you hold the key. Treat me like a queen, and I will fulfill all your filthy fantasies.

I'm just gonna do one more fuck up, and that will be the end of it. The end of it all, one more little fuck-up, nothing big, nothing small, just something, something worth remembering. Come on baby, don't act like it's a surprise, I'm a train-wreck and I always has been, you know that, it's why you love me, because I'm just something you pick up and play with, I'm too weak to tell you not too. I'm too weak to tell you to fuck off, or be gentle, or be better, or don't hate me, or anything and everything. Baby please, you know all this, I'm not saying anything new, I'm not screaming anything you haven't heard before, I'm just crying and moaning and whispering all my weaknesses like I always do when you demand me like this. When you pierce me, when you penetrate my soul with your anger. You've always hated me, you've always been poison running through my veins. Or maybe I'm the poison one, because you can't leave me be either. You're like cocaine, you know that? You just numb me completely, I can't feel a fucking thing whenever this happens, nothing. Numbness is happiness, isn't that what you always say? Oh fuck this, fuck it all, or should I fuck her? Is that what you want? 'Cause you know I'll do it, as much as I hate to admit it, I'd do anything you say, anything. 

I'm just gonna make one more fuck-up, ok, just one more, and then all of this will be over. Just one more.

I'm an addict.

Addictions.

They tend to find me without even trying.

I become addicted very easily, I become addicted to a lot of different things.

It can be music, it can be the bass, it can be the sound of someones voice, crawling beneath my skin. It can be a smell, the smell of you, the smell of him, the smell of sunshine or love or sex. It can be a sound, of a laugh, a giggle, a moan. I could be addicted to the softness of his lips, or the way his abs feel like when I let my hand slide over it. I could be addicted to the smooth skin just beneath his chin, or I could be addicted to the warmth of his embrace. I could be addicted to him, to his kisses, to his thrusts, to his laugh, his voice, his smell, his being, his mind, his words. 

I can get addicted to anything and everything. It's not even hard.

All in all, I'm an addict.

My filthy slutty boy

There you stand, holding her hand. You aren't smiling like you did to me.. Why aren't you smiling? Why doesn't your eyes glow when you look at her face? Is she just a disappointment? Or a beautiful disaster? Isn't she lovely? Isn't she what you had hoped for?

I want to show up on your door-step. I want to knock on your door, and see you standing in it. I want you to fuck me senseless, even though she was waiting for you, dinner and a movie. I want to be the dirty, little secret that you use to escape her disappointment. I want to make you my slave again, 'cause that was all you ever really were.You were good sex. Great sex, actually. Hot, amazing, strong and rough. But you never really meant anymore than that.. Than filthy sex. And I want it back, I do, and how funny wouldn't it be to have her sitting alone, waiting for you, while we fuck in your kitchen, and then you go home to her, missing me like hell.


But I won't do a thing, because that's what being a good girl means

Filth is what I want

Something is going on, you know, in there. Inside the tangled corridors of my brain. They keep running away from me, the filthy little thoughts. Teasing me, like bitchy teenage girls. "We know something you don't know" will you tell me please, before I carve my eyes out in pure frustration? "You want to know, believe us, you need to know, but we won't tell" Fuck. Everything's a blur, I'm drowning in a dessert, and the air is suffocating.

I'm hearing Lolita lullabies and I have babydoll daydreams. Will someone be my Daddy, please? I wanna wear pink stockings and ribbons and lace. I want huge babydoll shoes with a big bow around the ankle. I want to make cute, curly pigtails, and I want a heart-shaped mouth, pink and precious. Kiss me on my open mouth Daddy, kiss me where it feels nice.
What am I saying? Everything is sick and twisted and wonderful and sexy and horrifying. Nothing makes much sense and I don't know how to think anymore. I want to do something that hurts. I wanna pierce my tongue in a venom-manner. Two beautiful jewels, side by side. White inks will scar my pale skin and needles will shoot trough like it was paper. Paper-skin. I want paper skin.
I want to breath smoke like a dragon, like beautiful clouds on a rainy full-moon night. I want my lungs to be full of fire, my veins full of venom and then, everything will match. Everything will match my charcoal heart. Everything will match.

I'm a fashion whore, a Lolita, a craving bitch that wants and needs every-fucking-thing.

I'm a freaking gorgeous disaster.

Lolita Lullabies

Babydoll dresses, barely covering secret places. Pink ribbons, pigtails and big blue eyes. Are you gonna pick me? Daddy please, if you like me, take me home. Come on you know you like little girls, come on. I can dance for you, put on a really good show. I can play a princess, or a ballerina. I will do whatever you like, if you will do whatever you like to me.

Dress me down

Ripped stockings, barely holding on, clinging to the straps attached by the hip. No panties, none. Baby you know me, I like being here waiting, anticipating. Let the breeze tickle me, make it harder for me to keep a straight face. I want to be forced to grab my chair to sit still, to have to pinch myself for distraction. Nipples pressing against soft lace and ribbons, anxious, needing. I toss my hair behind my shoulders, bare my collarbones, my shoulders, my freckles. I might be wearing a dress, Honey, but believe me, I wont be wearing it for long.