Here I am…

Here I am on his bed once again.
His dirty little secret is what I am.
He doesn’t love me, he never will, for I am not relationship material.
He loves another and this I know, yet I have no one to call my own.
So here I am on his bed once again, as he talks dirty to me and rips off my dress.
He takes my panties off with his teeth, and for a moment I feel pleased.
Until I think of her and I, and how I can’t compare to her and what she’s got.
Here I am on his bed once again, the other woman, the one who feeds him his piece of cake.
The one she cries about, and hates so much, the one that doesn’t let him arrive on time.
I sometimes wish I could explain myself, tell her he’s the one I love, but I don’t dare.
For what I feel doesn’t matter here, I am just his little whore and she’s the one he can’t let go.
Here I am on his bed once again, degrading myself because I have no one to call my own.

-Kbeautifulmind

I wrote this, only because I can only imagine how mistresses feel and why they must continue on with that role.
Is it love?
I’d wish I could understand what makes women betray other women in this way?

Don’t be eye candy, be soul food.

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Don’t be eye candy, be soul food.
Make him fall for what you represent.
Give him “brain” before the intercourse, feed him your knowledge and inner being.
Be a work of art that must be appreciated, and set your value high and not too easy to seize.
When you undress from your clothes and bear your naked body for him to see, what a special treat that will be, but let it be dessert not an appetizer cuisine.
Make him suddenly register he’s been starving, and watch him as he wants to gorge in your physique.
Let your body be the treat, after you have showed him what you portray and he has become a glutton to your intellect.
Don’t be eye candy, be soul food.
-Kbeautifulmind