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.
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.