Polly Marie
Absolutely no experience writing. Think of this as a personal journal where you get a look into my soul.
Polly Marie
Absolutely no experience writing. Think of this as a personal journal where you get a look into my soul.
Absolutely no experience writing. Think of this as a personal journal where you get a look into my soul.
Absolutely no experience writing. Think of this as a personal journal where you get a look into my soul.
sometimes i feel like a commodity.
like every woman before me, i am something to be had. something to possess.
i am someone who gives and takes care.
i am the conductor who guides every note and rhythm of a shared life that doesn’t feel like my own. the harmonies of everyone else’s wants and expectations are deafening, crushing the soft melody of my cries of _who is going to take care of me? who...
there’s this aching, gnawing pain in the middle of my chest.
it’s ever present.
some days it’s gentle, and some days it’s not.
on gentle days, it’s a piece of me i hold close. a bittersweet whisper reminds me to cherish the memories i have and to live my days with intention and joy.
on the bad days, though, it’s suffocating.
on bad days it’s a raging tempest that threatens to swallow me who...
you’ve heard me say
_i am not good with words, _
_i have a hard time getting them out._
_i prefer to write. _
you have requested that i write for you moments of us.
and so, for you, i will write.
i will write about the day we finally collided in this lifetime
how your hazel eyes penetrated my soul
how the pull i felt to you was gentle, yet insistent.
how at first i thought we would be fun. j...
today i finally admitted it.
to myself and to my soul i accepted the selfishness of how bad i want everything with you.
i’ve known it for awhile now but never let myself really think about it.
to play out exactly what i want in my head.
to get lost in the absolute beauty of everything we can have and everything we can be.
i’m finally letting myself write down exactly what i’m yearning for.
i...
“Who are you?”
This question rattles around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull like an incessant pingpong ball. I have been ruminating on it for longer than I’d like to admit, simply because it’s a question I can’t easily answer.
_Who am I?_
Well, I know my name. I know where I come from. I know my profession and my hobbies. But that doesn’t answer it, does it?
In writing this I re...
You and I lay skin to skin, the only barriers between our souls are flesh and bone.
I can feel your heartbeat beneath my fingertips. The cadence of each beat keeps pace with mine. I listen and feel as the tempo of your breath soothes my restless heart.
For eight years I’ve been a vagabond. I’ve been wandering through life, watching it pass me by without even realizing I wasn’t living. She knew m...
tonight i am lonely.
the loneliness feels as if my chest will implode. it’s a pulling sensation, like an invisible rope is tied to my sternum that’s trying to pull my chest inward and crush my own heart. it’s an aching, sucking feeling. i can only describe it as so intense that i feel like i can’t breathe, can’t cry, and can’t wail. can the center of your chest feel nauseated?
it snuck up on me...
He turned on the shower, quickly testing the temperature with the back of a hand before flinging open the curtain.
“Coming in?” he asked, eyes never leaving mine as he stepped into the rainfall of water.
“I suppose.” My response came out more unsure than I had intended. How was it that a shower felt more intimate than the absolute debauchery we had just participated in did? This was not our first ...
Intrigue
Attentive gaze
Smiles and conversations
Immediate connection is felt
Mutual attraction is easily confessed
Indescribable pleasure brings two souls closer
Feelings of lust evolve into something more
Fast paced, deeply felt, entirely raw and real
A connection so pure and undeniable takes hold now
Walls have come down and the words have been said
Soulmates, twin flames, red string, the f...
Did I cross the line?
If by line you mean the chasm keeping me from my heart?
From my soul?
How could a line not be crossed when a single red line draws you ever closer to me?
A proverb that proves too true to be born of fiction pulls you to me and me to you.
What is the line, you ask?
The line is a rope, desperate to be pulled taught; to bring two halves of a whole back together.
It is the th...