Everything about you is so fucking addictive.

I've had my mind on sex a lot.

What I would do to feel him 

on top of me, around me, 

inside of me.

Which is of coarse totally

inappropriate but I'm not one

to deny feelings even 

sexual. 

Perhaps I'm too blunt.

Perhaps I'll scare him off.

Perhaps I won't.

This situation I'm in

is bizarre to say the least.

At a cross roads and trying not to hurt

anyone... but I know I will end up hurt 

no matter what.

Bitter sweet.

but they say that's what

dancers are in a way....

Bittersweet that is...

Always. 

It's pathetic, and by it's... I mean

myself.

How can you want something you can't have?

Want it so bad it's in your dreams, your day dreams,

your art.... your music....

Rhythmic moans and groans.

Imagining him with you....

in your bed.... Gentle Kisses mixed with

rough touches... strokes... and pulses. 

Gasps and intakes of breath,

almost like a rhythmic dance,

His moans... your music.

Baby, play those notes.

What I would do to take him into me,

hold him tight against me, feel his heart beat.

Teach him a whole new way of music....

one that involves bodies, love, and lust.

the need to move around to make sounds

that drum in your ears as your insides

explode....

Hear him say my name.

over and over as you cloud his head 

with emotions and need

and to feed

his desire

and my desire

to be engrossed in 

lyrical fire.

after all, the prettiest dresses

are worn to be taken off.

---------------------

Food intake today - under six hundred calories...

three more days of that,

then down to four hundred.

I'm not even hungry anymore.

I miss the hunger.

Bones...

where are you?

- Glitch.