The guilt and anger at myself builds over the space of a few days, after a week of feeling good, slowly the bad thoughts and feelings creep back in.

I’ve only myself to blame, I let you in, I was the one who couldn’t refuse you when you found a gap in the wall.

And slowly, stone by stone, I let you further inside, into my mind, into my heart.

Now I don’t know if there’s enough left to rebuild the wall.

Friends say ‘You’ll meet someone else’, and I look around me and ask them ‘Where?’ They have no answer.

I really wasn’t going to write about you again, I thought maybe this time…but no, here you come again creeping into my thoughts.

I just wonder how long?

How long until thoughts of you are a rare, fleeting occurrence?

How long until I can forgive myself for being so stupid again?

How long until the need goes away?

How long until the wall is fully rebuilt?





You say you think about me a lot.

First thing in the morning or last thing at night?

Or am I just an afterthought?

Do I invade your every waking moment,

or disturb your sleep as you do mine?

Or am I just an afterthought?

I don’t need you to quantify,

only to qualify.

Although I wonder,

now I can finally think past you.

Will you become just an afterthought?



Boobday #50

Isn’t it funny how things can change?

Usually for me, at least over the last few months, that change has been mostly shit. And you only have to glance through my last few posts to see that.

I had lunch with my friend yesterday and it was so good to get out again. We laughed, sorted out our problems and sorted out the world’s problems, as you do.

But after that, and this morning I’ve been back to my usual ‘Meh, whatever.’ feeling. I had an idea for a photo so I spent some time taking some, and as usual looking through them I thought there was maybe two I could use. And again, as usual, editing them changed my view. In the end my two favourites were a blurred one, which I’m using for a post tomorrow, and this one. I was trying to set the camera timer  😀

I think I really love this shot. And what better way to celebrate my Boobday half-centenary than finally liking how I look?


More Boobday here.



Wicked Wednesday #40



Inspiration for this prompt come from the open and honest way of writing by M of the blog Cammies on floor, during and after the breakup with her husband. Many who read that must have thought of their own break-ups, their own slutfests, their own way of dealing with the heartbreak. Come on, share yours with the world.

A slutfest would be good

right about now.

To spend hours and days

fucking you out of my head.

To have someone else

run their hands

over my body.

A new mouth to kiss and bite.

A myriad of new bodies

to explore.

Each one different

to you.

New hands

new mouths

new cocks.


To be able to leave you behind.

A series of one night stands

to be the slut

that I know I am.

Hands between my thighs

searching between the folds

to find the wetness within.

Slick fingers stroking my clit

swollen with need.

Sliding inside me

to banish you.

To be fucked

again and again

night after night

one after the other

cock after cock

until there is nothing left.

My mind empty and quiet.

I wish.


More Wicked Wednesday here.


Sinful Sunday #48

There is a huge difference between what I know and what I feel and believe.

I know there are some people who find me sexy, attractive, whatever and yet I still have a hard time feeling or believing it. There are times I feel sexy, then I see myself and that damned voice starts up again.

Stupid, what the hell are you thinking, old, fat, ugly,

And still I try, I tell the voice to shut up, I know the lies it tells, I’ve listened to them all my life.



More Sinful Sunday here.

Sinful Sunday

My heart…

…belongs to him.

All these months on and still I can’t…

…stop thinking about him

…stop wanting him

…stop loving him

…think about looking for someone else.

I’ve tried, other sites, looking at other profiles, I just don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to anyone new, even in real life.