I could quiver for you
right now
in your arms.
I think quiver is the right word
because a part of me
is shaking.
And if I breathed into the sensation enough
all of me would shake.
All of me would break open.
But I don’t want to do that
for you
right now.
So I don’t.
So I won’t.
Less is always more.
That’s what I learned.
Am I right?
Am I a good girl, yet?
Less was always more when I starved myself, too. Less was always more when I was “sick”. Because less made me less… and you wanted that, didn’t you? No… of course you didn’t. You were just afraid.
I understand your fear, but I will not entertain it.
I don’t want to play with it, let alone placate it.
I have done nothing wrong.
I am doing nothing wrong.
I can stand in that.
So I am free.
You projected your fear of power onto me.
Your power
My power
Our power
We don’t talk enough about what a goddamned fucking responsibility power is.
And how easy it is to say that you want the trappings of it, while conveniently disregarding everything else.
Here’s my secret: I want you to pay to read this.
Specifically…
I want you to pay me to write this
I want you to pay me to write full-time. For me, not you
I want you to pay me to live an abundant, unapologetic revelation of a life
And I am audacious enough to think you will.
After all… if not you, there will be others.
In the meantime… here’s the beginnings of a wish list ;)
Welcome to Erotic Capital.