TM49

My History Of Familial Incest
2017-02-01 03:10:08 (UTC)

The Battle

(A journal entry from earlier explaining (at least a little) my struggles with my lust and sexuality. )
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Lust is like hell, a desperate desire for something to give pleasure. When caught in it's grip you'd pay any price...do anything for the brief chance of escape into it's dark call. Lust blooms in the dark and our shadow lover comes out to play. When it is abated you remember where you are and the knowledge of the act comes full force. You ask if it were pleasure or pain. It is hell mocking you...taunting you in the only way it knows how. It wraps the shame around your heart and turns your mind inside out. It is a clever foe because it knows you well. It pushes those buttons and turns those pages. It will gladly show you your deeds over and over again.
When it is time to remind you of your place it raises it's weapons. It marches at you and you feel it coming closer. You know running away is not an option because you thought you were free, but it was your body that soared for just a little while. It took you to a place beyond the darkness and the pain. But you are not a bird, and you are not free. Eventually even birds must land and rest, but there is no rest for you. You crash, you smack into the dark and it points it weapon at you and says freeze. There is nothing else to do but listen, and soon your heart thuds dully and the nausea builds in your belly. You close your eyes as the feelings rush over you as a raging sewer. You are shot, stabbed. Your tears run as blood and you want to scream and hide but you cannot. Pleasure was a delusion, and though you knew this you denied yourself the truth for one more chance to rub your flesh and taste the lips and feel the hardness plunge deeply, as you dig yours nails into his back. Chances are hope and hope is sometimes all we are given....




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