can i come over and read you to sleep

Weed got me narrating my own cleaning montage like I'm on nature show: "And here we see the stoner, wiping down the counters with intense, spiritual purpose..."

i’d worship the mess of you, the chaos, the ache, the raw, unfiltered you

If the goddess of weed, witchcraft, and Windex were one person... it'd be me today.

You were a storm I walked into willingly. Now the thunder lives in my chest.

My insomnia feels less like a sleep issue & more like a séance i never agreed to. It's almost 2am. I gotta start telling these ghosts "if you're gonna haunt me, at least leave snacks".

If hurting us was your poison.. then maybe my forgiveness is the cure.

Don't call it lust. Call it invocation. I moved my hips and your spirit came home.

You call it moody. I call it atmospheric pressure. And if you touch me right- I might thunder.

Stop rushing in the morning. You’re starting your day in panic mode.

knowing I can trust you is a turn on.

the quiet madness of needing you deeper than skin

i want my chest resting against your thoughts

she's stardust in the shape of a woman

I lead with love. I build from soul. I honor my softness and my fire whole. I walk my own path, even if it's alone- For I am the roots, the ritual, the throne.

Foreplay? You mean spellwork. Whispers, candles, soft moans, and the occasional evil laugh.

I walk with the trees, speak with the unseen, and sense the currents of energy.

Out here, the fire is the only heartbeat, steady against the dark.

After a week spent in the woods and on Sacandaga lake, I am overstimulated being back home and thrown back into the hustle of life. Back to back sport practices and games. Getting all 4 kids prepared and ready for back to school.

You stood too close for a man who claims control.. You watched my fingers circle the flame like I wouldn't do the same to you.