Mo Cumhacht

I love sex, in all of its’ many acts and forms. Probably more than the average person and for a plethora of reasons. I love orgasms just as much as anyone could possibly love them. And I very much miss both sex and orgasms. There is, however, something I venture to say I actually miss more - indulging my sensuality. Stimulation of the senses, sometimes for sexual pleasure but, more often, just for the pure gratification of reveling in an almost hedonistic delight at something as simple as a smell, touch, taste, sight or sound.

I am an extremely sensual person. I find joy and comfort in aromas, textures, flavors, aesthetic visuals and auditory expressions. My grandmother’s pound cake baking or that positively enticing cologne on the gentleman that just walked by. The way a particularly soft piece of clothing soothes across my skin or the way my fingers caress and linger across smooth skin. The tingly burst of spearmint in my tea or the traces of whiskey on a lover’s lips. The most magnificent sunset gracing my retinas or the way her eyes crinkle and her chin dimples when she really smiles. The waves crashing on the shore or the timbre of his voice when he speaks. It is all so delightfully gratifying and pleasurable in the deepest parts of my soul.

This what I miss more than anything sometimes. Indulging my senses through shared experiences. I want to smell the oil being massaged into my skin to keep it moist and smooth. I want to enjoy the lingering scent of deodorant and person when I press my body to theirs as if I’m trying to hide from the day. I want to feel fingers combing through my hair. I want to feel someone between my thighs as I methodically find all the tight spots in their back and dig my fingers in to work them out. I want to taste the juices of the fruit we just ate as we share a kiss. I want to taste myself on their tongue after they push me over the edge. I want to watch them get dressed, so innocent to them but erotic to me, as I squeeze my thighs together to relieve the tension. I want to see their hands as they caress over my body to find all the hidden spots. I want to hear the way their voice rises and falls, the inflections in their tone, as they discuss their passions. I want to hear them tell me good morning with sleep still in their voice, raw and raspy after a long night sharing each other.

Yes, I greatly miss my indulging of the senses.

I have found myself completely overwhelmed with life lately. It's one of those times where it just seems to come at you from all sides. Every time you think you get one stressor under control, another bitch slaps you out of nowhere. Then all hell breaks loose on the one that you thought you had a handle on. I feel like a balloon, continuously being blown into. It begins to swell to gross proportions. At some point it will not be able to contain the air and POP!! I feel like a rubber band being stretched beyond capacity. You know it's only a matter of time and SNAP!! I have been balancing on this precipice for months now. And I'm angry. Enraged. Pissed the fuck off with nowhere to direct it. 

I cannot escape the stressors. I cannot remove myself from them. I cannot keep them at a distance. I know that I need to find my center amidst this turmoil but I truly feel it beyond my capabilities at this time. I cannot control the stressors but I am also incapable of controlling my response. The situations I find myself in are ones that require me to curb my needs in order to keep the peace that is needed within their respective environments. I have articulated my position to the relevant parties but it seems to fall on deaf ears in favor of said ears hearing what they wish to. I have attempted on multiple occasions over the past few months to express my frustrations with said parties with no viable resolution.

Where does this leave me? What do I do when needs aren't being met but the situation must remain as must I? I cannot continue to operate at this level of irritation. It is not healthy to me and it is even less healthy for the individual that blows just that last bit of air in that balloon or gives that rubber band one last pull. Because my temper will explode. It is not a matter of if, but when and who. I am unheard, disrespected,  disregarded and overwhelmed despite doing everything but screaming this at everyone involved. I'm exhausted.

Darkness enshrouds your being.
Your true colors, My eyes unseeing.
It intertwines my soul and mind
in the cracks and fissures left behind.
Herculean efforts, gods know you tried.
But, serpent's soul, you could not hide.
I allowed you freedom to slither in;
breathed you life, but breath grew thin.
I once was lost; myself, I found.
The chains you left, I've now unbound.
I bent. I bowed. I did not break.
It is not yours, my soul to take.

-LR 2018

“I’m tired”, I say to them, “In my soul, I’m tired.”

“Write...”they say to me.

“I’m at my breaking point. I’m gonna snap.” I say in a voice so intentionally calm.

“You need to start writing again…” they respond.

“I’m not okay…” I toss out with forced apathy.

“It’ll be okay…have you tried writing?” they query back.

I know it’s because they know how much writing means to me, how much it helps. And I know they mean well. I know that they care.

But I want to rage at them incoherently, scream in their faces.

I want to smack them and shake them but I’m stuck in this stasis.

I’m paralyzed in silence - can’t articulate sound or word.

They’re telling me to write and it’s utterly absurd.

Don’t they know if I could, I would write it all down.

Immortalize it in print - every swallowed plea now unbound.

I can’t, I sit frozen and all goes unspoken.

Write…right? It will surely fix all that’s been broken.

-LR 2023

Going thru some papers and found a poem I wrote back in 2015, posting for shits and giggles *shrugs* doesn’t even have a title.

You say that actions speak louder than words,

but all that you see is what you have heard.

All that you know is all that they say

and the things that I do can’t begin to outweigh.

I try and I try and I do and I do.

My deeds are worthless when they whisper to you.

How can I show you what you choose to believe

comes from mouths that lie and deceive?

I can’t and I won’t - you’ve built this goodbye.

And irony of ironies, it’s you that’s the lie.

-LR 2015

Until very recently, I wanted so many things but knew I wouldn't be able to have them for a very long time. I was able to hide behind that knowledge rather than confronting some hard truths of fear and insecurity. It didn't matter because my hands were figuratively tied on the matter. I wasn't able to obtain my wants so I could wallow in denial and ignore. Everything has shifted so unexpectedly and I'm reeling. It's been weeks now and I can't wrap my head around it.

Abruptly, I find the biggest obstacle that stood in my way is no longer there - freedom. I now have the freedom to come and go in a way that I could not have foreseen for at least another 10 years or more. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?! It's like the stray dog kept in a cage at the shelter and then the door opens, but it won't go out because it doesn't understand. It's been in the cage so long that the ability to step beyond is a foreign concept. It's scary and unknown whereas at least it knows what to expect in the cage. What is outside the cage? A happy home? Euthanasia?

The next biggest obstacle isn't even THAT big anymore. Still there but nowhere near as pressing. Time. I didn't have the time, namely because I didn't have the freedom. Now there is more time, more availability. Just what the fuck am I to do?! I can now devote time to pursuing the things that I want. There was no point prior due to lack of freedom. Time is of the essence....

Now, I have no choice but to admit, the only thing stopping me from reaching for what I want and reveling in it is myself. My fears. My insecurities. Me, myself and I. But oh how I want, I crave, I need...so much. I want it all...and I can have it. I only have to step.