Truth isn’t always meant to be good news
Sometimes it hurts, rips you open
But there’s a certain beauty to it
because someone felt comfortable,
and open, to telling you their truth
And that is a rare gift of freedom
which you gave to them
Our society is so fucked up, that when I told a friend what I desired in a (male) partner, I was told I was asking too much.
“Too much” included: someone I’m sexually attracted to, nice and makes me laugh, a guy who takes care of himself—isn’t careless with his mental health and physical health, but which doesn’t mean he’s a bodybuilder/buff-, doesn’t treat me like a sex toy (i.e. constant one sided sexual interactions), and not abusive. If that’s reaching for the stars, I’ll reach for the fucking stars. If I never meet a man like that, so be it. I’m happy alone too.
The most messed up thing about this, is the idea that a man like this doesn’t exist, or that he’s so rare, I’ll never meet him. Honest, loving, attractive, and fun guys exist who don’t expect sex dolls for a partner. And lets not forget that attraction is in the eye of the beholder, and people are attractive for their personality and thoughts as much as, if not more, than their physical shell. Hold out for the right one and love yourself until then.
It’s not the color of the windows
for which I fall,
because peeking through wispy blinds,
is a soul,
sometimes tattered, well worn,
or even a bit that’s torn
It’s not just the lovely outside
that’s lived such a life,
but the shadows and highs
the lows and the light
of a being so right which
sets my heart to flight