moo
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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Mar 4, 2021
i hear the drums, Echoing tonight But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation She's coming in 12: 30 flight The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards Salvation I stopped an old man along the way, Hoping to find some long forgotten words or ancinet melodies He turned to me as if to say, Hurry boy, it's waiting there for You It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do I bless the rains down in Africa Gonna take some time to do the things we never had The wild dogs cry out in the night As they grow restless longing for some solitary company I know that I must do what's right As sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serangetti I seek to cure what's deep inside,...
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You used to be stronger than this. You used to thrive off being alone. You promised you would never let yourself depend on another human ever again. You're supposed to be a strong and independent woman who only relies on herself because that's the only person she can trust. What happened to you? Jackson. Jackson happened to me. Jackson begged me to let him take care of me. Jackson snuck in when I wasn't looking and found himself a home in this fucked up brain of mine. He set up camp among my thoughts and now he refuses to leave. He tangled himself in my synapses. He weaved his way into every aspect of my being. And now not a single part of me exists without some part of him in it. I have become the woman I promised myself that I would never be. I have become the woman who can't go one day without her husband's hands on her body. I have become the woman who looks for him in every room she enters, even if she knows he won't be there. I have become the woman who relies on her husband to be her barometer for all situations. I have become the woman who craves- no, needs her husband's approval in every endeavor that she encounters. I have become a woman I hate, a woman I used to make fun of, a woman who is useless without her husband. I broke my rules for him. - - - The usual strong, put-together, badass Jet is nowhere to be found right now. No. This is angry. This is hurt. This is desperate. This is crimson blood dripping from the blade of the dagger she used to kill the happy little kid in her. That's the thing about Jet. She wears strength and darkness equally well. She always has. It's like she's half goddess and half Hell. Half angel and half demon. She gave me peace in a lifetime of war. She's madness sipping chaos from a cup, and, fuck, does she make it look good. You think she's a delicate flower that you could step all over? You think you can break her soul that easily? Ha. You couldn't be any more wrong. She's wildfire and she will devour you whole.

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