SO …I’m a hyper sexual person at times. My sex drive tends to be intense and insatiable. I use to think that it was both a blessing and a curse but now I really accept that it’s part of who I am and I’m no longer ashamed or feel guilty about it. This poem from 2015 is about me really enjoying blowjobs.
I wrote this in January of 2018 when me and my starter husband had opened up our relationship. The person “B” who inspired this poem was the first guy I was with after this transition. It’d be the first of unstable whateverships/relationships from that year that would restart this unhealthy pattern. This poem is also a perfect example of my black and white thinking. I idealized my husband and devalued the other person. I also felt guilt and shame sleeping with someone else who wasn’t my husband even though we were in an open relationship.
I’m disappointed once again -being here with you You represent everything I thought I wanted But- You don’t compare to him You make my body sing with kisses but don’t sweep up the mess that I am You give me pleasure but can’t handle my pain You are there to fuck me but never to rescue me SO I choose him Who chooses to be there for me When I chase for death in a bathtub or a bottle Because while sex and lust feels good When it’s happening It doesn’t compare to the love and support he’s provided in keeping me alive So I say goodbye to a life Full of lust filled fantasies and accept the one and only who truly cares for me
Rising from a deep sleep That had become our marital bed Passion woke up In a sudden caress Of your rough hands On my soft bare back Your eyes shone on me again With that long lost stare Desire Our long lost friend Is back To reclaim us From our endlessly deep and dreamless sleep
I wrote this in 2006 about my husband and my husband were in a good place…meaning we were having sex again after taking a break for several months from it. I tend to place a lot of importance of sex in a relationship and well…if that’s lacking, I get bored and depressed in the relationship.
For once desire and passion
Has entered our lives once again
And the pieces start to fall perfectly
In our lives again.
Is this a dream or just another short lived memory?
He runs his hand through my back and it’s like
Electrical wires going through my body and it turns on
I wrote this in the year 2001 after really good sex with my ex Paul. He was 29 and I was 19 at the time. It may have been the first or second time I think. He said to me right afterwards, “Don’t fall in love with me.” Man, I sure know how to pick them. Lol.
He was beautiful He made love to me with his eyes He made me melt with the simplest caress He made me feel like a woman With his beautiful words and loving touch We melted together as one And finally as we reached the end We knew that as we exploded in the ecstasy that our lovemaking brought We are one for the other And we will be forever
I wrote this is 2006 in for my creative writing class. I wrote thinking about my sexuality when I was a teenager. I was hypersexual from a young age.
She was an adult like sixteen years old Hormones racing like the speed of light These were bitter enemies of the cold Powerful sensations she had to fight Had the body of a mature woman But the maturity of one she lacked But still she chose a stranger man He told her quickly “Lie on your back.” She was swiftly incapacitated Gone forever, her norms and behavior As her callow body palpitated With her lengthy new found pleasure And this was the unforeseen joyous end Of her already dying innocence
From the ages of 18 to 23, I worked for a government agency as an interpreter. I was well-liked by many of my coworkers and my first supervisor was appreciative of me. I was very good at my job and even cross-trained in many other areas that didn’t “pertain to my job”. However, at that job, I was also bullied and discriminated against for being Latina. I was also slut-shamed by my second supervisor and coworkers the latter 2 years I was there. I don’t want to say I deserved being slut-shamed but I’ll just say that I trusted the wrong coworkers with my private life and they went on to gossip about me to everyone. It was also a very stressful environment because of the work I did and clients I had to interact with. My depression and anxiety went haywire. In 2003, I decided to enroll in my local community college and major in English. In 2004, I was trying to go to school full time, work full time, and deal with my child’s new autism diagnosis. I was breaking down mentally and something had to give so I quit this job. I was fucking done. And this poem was inspired by that moment. I thought I had processed this trauma until it came back up in therapy in the summer of 2021. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had suffered a deep racial trauma that impacted me and still triggered reactions in me. I was angry. There is actually way more to this story and one day I’ll share it when I’m ready.
I wrote this on January 1st, 2003 about this dude that I hooked up with a week prior. I was upset about John and of course wanted to escape from my feelings of rejection. So I started once again seeking validation from men and ended up hooking up with some guy from the bar.
The night I met you I was drunk and blue Because of that impossible love Who said I wasn’t good enough So I decided to drink my pain away and then you came my way With your charming and smooth manner I should’ve known you were a player But you told me everything That I wanted to believe in How you had never met anyone like me And that you wanted us to be It sound almost too good to be true But i was feeling lonely too So i decided to give in to you Afterwards you promised to call But instead you went awol And many days later I sit here In a river of foolish tears Wondering why why why I always fall for the same false lines
I wrote this in 2019 when I was reflecting about the way men have often objectified in a way thatthey almost always seem to just want the fun and sexy part of me but seem to often have problems seeing the rest of me. I’ve almost always felt like I’ve been good enough to be their lover but never good enough to be introduced to their mother. Do I still feel this way? I honestly don’t know. I like the attention and validation I get from men because of my looks but sometimes it feels so hollow.
I wrote this in April 2002 after sleeping with Lucas for the first time. This situation was fucked up and crazy for many reasons but that’s another story time blog post. Let’s just say that I’m not great at making the best life choices at times.
I finally fucked the forbidden married man It was good, it was great it was wonderful It was a heaven full of ecstasy It was dirty, it was shameful it was ugly It was a hell full of guilt