I am a lioness you say.
I hunt for my pride, but I look in
boxes I had long put up for winter,
forgetting it was November. 

I am a lioness you say.
Blood drips from my muzzle
as I lope through the herd of
blissfully unaware sheep.

I am a lioness you say.
I dress myself daily in the wools
of my hunt from the day before,
being sure to hide my fangs. 

I am a lioness you say.
I am still hunting for my pride.
It seems you, one of the sheep,
has ripped it from me.

Seven Deadly Sins

I found this in the notes section of my phone, written in the wee hours of the morning. Enjoy.

My greatest sin has always been lust.
I’ve never had enough of anything to be a glutton.
I’ve never been jealous of the lives that others lead because I have a plan of my own.
I’ve never been stationary for long enough to be likened to a sloth.
I’ve never been proud. Not of myself, not of my life, not of my beginnings.
I’ve never been greedy, taking only what I need to get by.
I’ve never been overtaken with anger for longer than a day, finding myself altogether too prone to forgive.

My greatest sin is lust. I want to be wanted by a man. I want him to back me into a wall and taste me. I want him to be gentle sometimes and tease me in all the right, devilish ways, and other times, I want him to ravage me. I want to feel my muscles ache deliciously in the morning, reminding me that, just for a moment, I was the only thing he wanted