Secret Place

I am so tired.

Not just sleepy, but tired. In my mind and heart I am tired.

It’s exhausting sometimes. I am even too tired to cry some days and some nights but often a tear manages to fall when my eyes are closed.

I am far less dark lately, though.

I have allowed a softness and warmth to slide in, almost without realising. And I want it to stay there, just where it is, keeping me out of the shadows and holding my heart.

 

Still though , some shadows are dark and fierce and can’t be fought and I will be honest, I blame myself for casting them.

 

But sometimes…when I am just too tired and too lost- I take my mind to this place.

 

A small bedroom.

It’s always night time, blue midnight veils the room.

There is a bed in the centre and nothing else.

Two steps leading up to the bed and the mattress is sunken in so it’s level with the last step.

Covered in white sheets, soft white blankets, inviting pillows and a down- feather filled white duvet.

I lay down, I wear nothing.

 

The bed holds me, embraces me and I think of nothing. My mind is blissfully clear and clean and nothing can reach me here.

There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to trigger my anxiety, nothing to make me cry or be scared or feel guilty about or hate myself about or fret about or chide myself for or remember or fear or try to forget .

Nothing. Just me.

Just me and this bed. And it is pure beauty and peace. Silence. Just my breathing , calm and level and measured.

 

Sometimes I lay there and sleep. I  sink into peaceful slumber for a little while. It’s perfection.

 

Sometimes though…

 

Someone does arrive

Impossibly perfect for me.

He lays next to me, kisses me. Whispers to me. Touches my mind and body. Gently strokes my heartbeats.

He fucks me hard like the Good Girl in me wants so much.

And he makes love to me slowly and gently like the Bad Girl in me desperately needs.

 

Yes. You read that last part correctly.

 

I am so tired.

 

But something is waking me up.

 

Fiery x

 

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37 thoughts on “Secret Place

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    1. Ahaha! Really made me chuckle.

      Thought no one was brave enough to comment. I think my wanton usage of the wonderful F word scared people off 😂

      It’s a great bed though, seriously.
      Still laughing

      Liked by 1 person

  1. What a bed!

    You painted this perfectly. I believe what made this truly more delicious was the good girl and bad girl and how each desired the opposite of what we would normally expect them to desire.

    You started off so dreamy, almost lost in the clouds, until he arrived , and things shifted to another level. Bravo

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s an amazing bed and all sorts of special magic happens there, but it’s terribly secret…except that I plastered it all over my blog, lol.

      That was the part I started with actually, and then went in reverse..you know. So when Mr Perfect arrives I draw the curtains so no one can peek…

      I think it’s a good glimpse into my often pretty but sometimes effed up little soul.

      I’m beyond happy that you liked this Mr Lonely Author.
      I am huge fan of yours so…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Haha! Wow, best comeback ever. Touche my lonely author.

        Pretty Effed Up Soul is absolutely going to be a poem very soon.

        As for you feeling hot…it was inevitable. I have been trying to make you sweat

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I have a similar dream except the person that enters my room is a vivacious Kazakh girl who happens to be a martial artist dressed in a French maid outfit and fiercely jealous. She beats the crap out of anybody that tries to wake me and when I do wake up, she makes the best damn Turkish coffee on the planet. I spend all my time there. She doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Kazakh so we get along really well. 😍. My dreamscape is very entertaining. Your’s is too it seems.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow, H. I had no idea your mind was such a cavern of soft porn plus coffee …. And I am highly offended you called it Turkish coffee…it’s Greek coffee to us and we are very proud of our ancient ways of cooking it up on a stove of hot sand…but notwithstanding your blunder…this was a hilarious glimpse into your crazy little fantasies.
      Yeah, I am one to talk, i know! 😂😂😂😘

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ha ha ha! Your Fieriness, Kazach girls have never heard of my beloved Greek coffee made in the same manner as it was 9 centuries ago. But, she does know the techniques introduced by the invading Ottomans who overcame the invading Mongols, who gave the invading Russ Norsemen a true fight pushing them west back to the Norwegian sea from whence they came. Lets not forget the Slavs nor why they were called slavs. It’s the multicultural beauty that makes Kazach girls so exotic and as Dracul Van Helsing says, “Boneriffic.” Since I cant make hide nor hair out of the Kazach language, I just have to go with whatever delectable skills she brings to the table, couch, floor, chair, bed, and yes- even the elevator on ocassion. I do drink a lot of coffee. 😉☕️

        Liked by 2 people

      2. 🤫 Don’t repeat this. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, but Rayana my lovely Kazach dreamgirl loves American Cowboy culture. She is all about the giddy-up and if I give her a little smack on the flanks, she goes faster. If giddy-up was an Olympic sport, we’d be gold medalists. Strangely enough that would introduce her to my Spartan genes and ancient Greek heritage. I’ve always enjoyed Olympic things. It’s so Greek, don’t you think?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Why stop a good thing that’s working. The Greeks got it right, that’s why the numbskull Romans copy catted the heck out of Greek culture. It’s what made them great. It’s when they started acting all western cultured that they got their asses whipped by the Germanic tribes. Now look at us. 😏

        Liked by 1 person

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