Friday, October 5, 2012


She's pretty enough to get by.
Pretty enough for a small town.
Pretty enough...until I see through to the girl inside.
She means the world to me.

Her anger is cold and deadly,
words sharply cutting into unintended targets,
a massacre upon the snow.
Why doesn't it stop snowing?

And when she laughs the guard goes down.
When she laughs I see agony.
I just need to see her smile.
She means the world to me.

Monday, April 9, 2012


as I lay me down to die
I'll count them all
you've never tried

to live or love
or what's beneath

you've never seen
why I'm so keen
to bleed for things I cannot see

yet I can feel
them in between
the sheets upstairs in which you lie

mascara scabs
and painted sighs

you said the world should go away
the town was painted
the world is grey

writer's block

I wish to write but I
     have no words
Nothing is worth anything
     especially to those who
     can't see
Have I lost my sight?

I lie in fur and quilted silk
Rich yet thrown together poorly
          Someone has no taste
     but wants to feel

But I need this...
     I need you.

I need to be medicated.

I am fearless and proud
     yet full of shame
     from my inadequacies
Beauty only lies in what is
     I have forgotten
          my beholder
And I am never alone.

     The white rabbit has
nestled in her bunny hole
     She's been running for
so long...

Ever hunted, she now feels

Had I thought this was possible?

I bow to no one yet I
     lower my head in
     reverence to you

Lead me through this
     dream you've conjured
     Through the twisted hallways
through fire and ice
          through forgotten joys
     past regrettable silences

Lead me to the place you call

Monday, March 26, 2012



My name is Elise (hello Elise), and I....I have penis envy. I don't mean that I wish I had a penis. Yes, it'd be fun, and yes, life would be'd probably be really fun. That's not what this is about. I want to be aggressive and not make men feel emasculated. I want it to be OK to have a careless attitude. I want to be casual about sex and be able to walk away with no strings if anything unpleasant should happen as a result of my decisions. I want to feel confident that my salary is fair and not see statistics about how I much less I make on average. I want to be more than just a bitch or a whore. I want to be able to say pussy and cunt without shock and awe.

I am not a lesbian. I love men, a lot. I love their bodies, their voices...I love their aggression and sexual prowess. I love to be handled. I just envy their position. I envy how they make me feel. How I know I'll never make anyone feel like that...

"So you want to be the 'masculine energy', or perhaps as equals? No special treatment. You wish to be the same."

...Not exactly. I want to be seen as beautiful. Beautiful and respected. I want to allow myself to be vulnerable. I want to bring a man to his knees. I want to be the soft gentle contrast to his strength. I want to be able to see, no to feel, love. I want to laugh. Doors that are held open are nice. Chocolates are...delicious. It's more than that. It's the look in his eyes when he smiles. It's how I want to do things I would normally wouldn't do. Things I'd tell others to fuck off for asking about. It's allowing myself to let go..

"These seem to be two contrasting schools of thought. How do you incorporate these into your life?"

I accept that I will misrepresent myself and present conflicting  sides which would make knowing the proper course of action for a prospective mate damn near impossible. I also know that happiness is more than everything that I've just said and that all or none could be present to create something that at the time is considered to be perfect.

"Break it down then. What is attraction?"

It starts with a smell.

Monday, March 19, 2012


It starts with a smell. The pheromone injected colognes alone would be enough to make your head swim but concoct that with the laundry detergents, the shampoos (conditioners, hair products), the deodorants, and the natural smell that you would wake up to the next morning and sometimes that can be enough. Enough to break through the reserved polite composure of normalcy and introduce the primal.

Next comes the touch. Unbelievably soft sensual lips tracing...seemingly knowing without words where to go, what to do to make the body shiver without warning in a sordid sigh. The whisper of facial hair, the hands slightly rougher than yours softly exploring and loving what they find, the weight of his body pressed against yours and with all this - this assault upon the everyday living your senses are accustomed to that you lose yourself.  You look into his eyes with dilated pupils completely unaware of any impression  you might be making and have long ago forgotten about (let go). He is taller, leaner, stronger, rougher, harder. He is the complete opposite of everything you are and it's this that overflows your capacity of restraint. 

(let go)

Clothing hastily torn or teasingly removed, release of tension in hair pulls, spanking, various positions...multiple orgasms...all this to get here. Here, looking up through a sweaty smiling fog into eyes that are expressing something beyond your understanding. It's here that you come to love and hate the world, love and hate your position, your role...your understanding. Its here, after allowing complete vulnerably that the shattered glass that had been your wall  begins to reforge itself deep within the recesses of your soul only to be slowly poured again.