Flesh @ MindSay 
It's been raining here alot recently. Pretty beautiful.
I don't care if this song means anything else to anyone. I love it, and always have.
Smeared Eyes by Tragic Black
With smeared eyes we dissipate to the sound of rain on our face. Grey skies surround, all around. It lights the tree's dripping to the sound. Falling from the sky as we close our eyes in the soundtrack of our lives.
I feel them touching me. Finger painted shades of red. Dripping on my knee's painting new eyes in my head. I'm reaching for the world and it rips my flesh apart. A quickly fading spectrum. A quickly paling heart.
In a moment of this life we watch the rain outside dripping off our homes while we bleed inside. Frozen blue and grey starring paralyzed within the threatening shadows of black clouds moving in. Deep within the blackness enshrouded deep inside, evaporating figures coalesce and reside.
I felt isolated as a kid and then when I became older I was told that if I had sex then I had to marry that person or it would be a sin. I was also told that the person I had sex with would have to be a witness. So I saw kids wanting to marry just so they could have sex and be freed from their parents strict household. I saw people with sin that thought they were perfect or could be perfect just by bearing the name and rules of this religion. I saw people that, when they went up against this religion, then no longer could anyone from this organization associate themselves with them. I saw kids getting kicked out of their homes because they wouldn't attend meetings. I saw parents curse their children lives by telling them that without this religion in their lives then God will not listen to their prayers and they would live a cursed life without blessings. If you believe this stuff then it begins to encumber your soul and eventually you are torn between a world of conflict internally. This conflict affects the relationship later on in your life. You become unlovable, unattached, and very secretive about yourself. You become afraid of anyone truly knowing what's inside you because you were taught that you were wicked.
I never went to a therapist to get my mind resolved on my childhood issues, however I became a Christian. A Christian without rules and demands or my walk of life. A Christian were as the Lord is engraved in my heart and not in books made of paper and stone. I am taught by the holy spirit of the right and wrong paths, not by an imperfect being made up of flesh. Who can make mistakes at any given time like myself. I don't ever want to be mislead by false prophets, those that are the anti Christ, which means that, they don't believe Jesus as being one with God. I had to sever my relationship with my mom because she couldn't respect me saying no more lies. It was painful however needed. I was taught in a black society that disrespecting your parents basically means bringing hardship upon you. I was taught that you could not freely express your views without getting a slap on the face. However I saw the white society of kids express their feelings to their parents. Some said,"Get the fuck out of my room mom". Or, "Shut the fuck up or leave me the fuck alone or even fuck you bitch".
I recently came across a black artist that had an excerpt from a song on youtube, that said Yo mama you know you lied to me. And I wish I could hear the rest of that song, because everything that I felt she was expressing it. As if she knew me. I could never say what I wanted to say to my mom, but I felt like through her song, I could. I personally want to say to Kissimistry, thank you for making a song that defies all the lies we were taught in the black community far as voicing our concerns to our parents. Thank you for being the rebel or zealot as the witnesses would call you. Thank you for standing up. Click to listen to Yo Mama excerpt, it's after the first song.
He lead her through the side doors and out onto a covered patio. The rain and cool sea air refreshed and chilled her and she stood close to him as he put his jacket over her. His jacket surrounded her with his scent and warmth, and she raised her hand to his face and whispered a thank you in his ear and kissed his cheek. She glimpsed his smile and she enjoyed the moment.
She let her thoughts drift, and started to look closely at her new home. Since the night he bought her, brought her 'home' she couldn't quite define the feeling. She felt safe, but it occurred to her that she had lost the feeling of being a guest now. It had always been his home, and now it felt as their home. She felt him take her hand and she wrapped her fingers with his, looked around again seeing her new studio, but happily unable to imagine what would come to life there. She had ideas, bits and pieces of images, but then wondered where her imagination would take her. She peeked at her feelings, the anxiety was absent, and she quickly retreated, back to him, back to this life. Their life? and smiled at that.
A too cool dark rainy day, a home by the ocean was the setting of romance novels, and she was letting herself get carried away, finding no harm in it. He brought her inside, kissed her and pushed her toward their kitchen, telling her to bring wine while he fed the fire. She smiled as she recognized that she knew her way around, and then again remembering the steak she'd cooked for them. She had been only interested in knowing the bed, their sex and feeling like she was being devoured or filled with his cock. The firm control, his appetite for her, and then the soft touches as he cared for his 'pet', his strong scent and the taste of him, would have been enough. Now she was nesting within her master's domain and she waited for his next command. Hoping it would take everything of her to please him.
There had to be a balance. There was a need to be his property, safe and cared for, to service him completely. Then there was, what? She was constantly struggling how to explain it. Even to herself. Herself. She needed to still be 'her'. She was made up of facets; likes, dislikes, opinions and desires. A slave to his will, a sex object made for his use, but a willing captive, nevertheless, that she could still see herself in a mirror. She could see her life expanding, without her disappearing. Choices. He gave her choices and took all that she offered. Her body needed the other half, sex needed to be given in order for her pleasure to be complete. His confidence, control, was delicious and she set aside her choices, submitting instead.
She carefully selected the wine, poured a single glass and swirled it, inhaled and took a generous sip. Not so much the connoisseur, but relying on the winery, the varietal and passing knowledge. The flavor flowed and she quickly took another, then finished the short pour. She was refilling the glass, then squealed and giggled when she saw him smiling and watching her. She poured more wine, took another quick sip offered it to him, smiling, her eyes bright.
He took the glass and finished it, holding it for her to pour again. "Good choice". He started picking through the refrigerator. "Hungry?"
She nodded and poured more wine. "A little bit. Something though."
"How about panini?" He looked over his shoulder. She was sitting at the counter, sipped the wine, took her hair down and unbuttoned a button from her blouse. The wine warming her, her face was flush, eyes bright and a genuine smile on her face. She nodded and coaxed him over to her. She put her hand to him and gave him a breathy kiss with the fragrance of her and the wine on her breath. Second and third short kisses let him know that the first one was only part of what she was feeling.
He asked her what she wanted in "her studio" and they talked, splitting two sandwiches and finishing the wine. He had her open a second bottle, cold white wine, and she followed him. The room was well warmed, with just a whiff of smoke and you could hear the rain and wind change and pick up as the sun went down. He sat next to her and handed her a small polished box. She found several spliffs inside, and giggled as she took one and he lit it for her with a small piece of the firewood. She sipped the wine and the hash seeped through her. She curled up next to him, warmed through and through, but wanting to feel his skin, that sweet sweet taste of his.
"So? You have a Happy Pet, with full tummy, behaving herself with ummm-Hash. What, ever, will you do with me now?
Soft music filled the pause in their conversation, Harry Chapin, balladiers who sung of missed loves and loving memories, Kurt Cobain sang about the love out of the reach of his arms. She watched him undress her, releasing more and more of herself until she was nude and totally in his control. She closed her eyes as his kisses went from her tummy to her thighs and the tenderest flesh. She came and rode wave after wave, clinging to him. He turned her, fucked her for a very long time and held her in his arms longer. She could only whimper and push harder when his cock slid between her thighs or her cheeks.
She covered them when he was spent and cared for him, whispering everything she'd felt as he fucked her. She caressed his cock and told him how it felt when
I am disgusted at myself and how easily I allow this world to entertain me with it's ways. Last night, flipping through channels (nothing decent ever on, don't know why we still have satellite really) and caught myself watching The Roast of Flavor Flave. At first, I indulged and allowed the perverted jokes and foul language to entertain me...until I literally became sick to my stomach and realized "what am I doing!?!" I immediately insisted of my husband that we do not watch anymore and he changed to channel to Disney where Finding Nemo was on, however, the damage had already been done.
I was quite for the rest of the night, silently praying for forgiveness, purity of mind, and thankful that the Holy Spirit has made me sensitive to sin (even if it meant almost loseing my dinner). This, these foul displays the world sees as quality entertainment...I can't even begin to vent my frustrations at. How they are corrupting minds and searing over our consciences until we convince ourselves that it's ok to watch them, until we are no longer convicted of lewdness, purity, and modesty. Lord God, what a hell we have created on our own down here! And how worthy are we to all burn in it!
I am disgusted in myself for the flesh and the eyes are weak to resisit sin, but thanks be to my God who reminds me I was one of them once. Thanks be to my God who protects my thoughts and guards my actions and never lets me forget what I once was, before Christ. Thanks be to my God who uses His spirit of conviction to keep me from sin and draw me closer to Himself.
" Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27
"Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the
Father is not in him." 1 John 2:15
Ndosch
Take a lighter and using your imagination, burn shapes into your skin. Look at the kitten on my arm. It is kinda like "Hello Kitty!" but made out of seared flesh.