sexual frustration. gnawing filthily inside.
craving the touch of naked skin, someone stroking the small of my back, kissing my neck. i dream off clothes falling of my silken skin, shallow breaths gasping in the murky gold dark light filtering in through hastily drawn curtains. fingernails scratching, teeth grazing. hoarse whispers 'i want you' & my personal favourite 'god, you're so thin'... and then afterwards... exaltation/disgust. shame/fear/silence. dull the noise. deafen the whispers. consume what i so willingly surrender to you.
i miss the user. i miss the long-term crush. i miss them all.
in the bar last night i felt the scorching eyes undressing me. but this is new daisy - pure, innocent, sweet daisy. so i bat my eyelashes, i laugh sweetly and write my blog...
Thursday, 1 October 2009
I've been handed that holy grail of things - a fresh start. New people, new place, new me. As long as I don't drink then old Daisy will remain my festering secret, hidden under layers of smiles and easy laughter. It's an escape from home, from control, from watching eyes. My accomodation is self-catering and my student loan hasn't come through so finally - total freedom over food. I thought that starving would make me free from the fat that I see as polluting my body. For me, fat is the visible symbol of my weaknesses - gluttony. But above all else I traded my fat for attention. And now I'm handed a free pass. I'm savouring this moment of freedom from myself but simultaneously I am so terrified I feel like there's a hand around my throat, gently caressing whilst gradually tightening. What if they find out?