No, I don't want to leave you
Like they said I would
For failing your mission
But she wants to challenge you.

She rises up,
Sweat from the eyebrow
Dirt on the knees
Fingers callased

She comes for the soul
Piercing at a fragile ego
Leaving you weak or
Submitting to a man

My joints feel loose and battered apart like a broken doll, my ankles like overstretched rubber bands

Mind foggy; caffeine wears off twice as fast

Will low. Wit low. Appetite vague and mercurial, occasional lower body pangs which convince my stomach it has a bug. In search of constant comfort.

The detritus of dozens of “not a big deals.”

Days when I sit, feeling like I've lifted the boulder that pushed me down
Are forced down by the storm that brews within me.
The storm itself something that yearns for a result that will never last
The days i ravage my storage for the sustenance a body requires
Are the times I question my dignity.
Is humanity so hopeless? we’ve stooped to the gates of hades?
Eve's own greed has landed me in this state of depressing lust.
When will I ever overcome the devil that resides within the walls of red velvet and sickly saccharine chocolate?
Be it next fortnight or next nightfall.
I do not want to face the luteal lucifer even in the depths of my agonising detrimental state.

Do any other bisexuals out there know what it’s like?
I’ve read in some blogs and Reddit threads that others feel attracted to men when they ovulate
And attracted to women the rest of the month
And mine is just like that sometimes
But other times it’s not
As the days turn long
And the evenings warm
I want to sink my teeth into a big hairy chest and be held by large rough hands
Even well into my luteal
But I’ve told myself
That whenever this retreat from *** ends
I must must must date a woman next
Because each time I date a man
Even a big one with a hairy chest
I still want a woman
Which of course brings me to my dream
Of having a relationship with both
A happily ever after throuple
It’s also been so long since I’ve been with a woman
Over a year
Maybe even a year and a half
That I barely remember the luxury of someone else’s breast in my hand
And then I think maybe I just want lovers here and there
And that in my 30s I’m still young
And that plenty of women have children in their late 30s and maybe I can have a little *** renaissance again
But this time without all the **** and the burying of pain
This time with presence and seduction and responsibility
It’s been ages since I’ve been ****** dumb
And with someone as high strung, smart and **** as me
I just think it should happen at least once a week
But I’m scared to go out there and get it
I’ll list my fears here:
That I won’t be able to attract a woman I’m sincerely attracted to
That a man, no matter how attractive, will turn out to be disrespectful and trite
That I’ll fall in love with a woman and then I’ll have to deal with pretending to not care what my mom thinks
That I’ll be jumping back into *** too early
That my still healing body and soul are not ready yet and that I should wait a bit longer
That I’ll keep waiting and nothing will happen
That I’ll get exactly what I want, my man and woman, a happy **** sweet kind funny loving relationship where we can grow and create life and dream and cry and laugh
And that somehow I’ll still find ways to be unhappy
That having what I really want
Will make me outcast
Or that in order to keep up appearances we will have to hide our truth

Oh the drama in these fears
And then I think well alright then I should just go for it
But how?
On apps? No
In bars? I don’t like bars
At the farmers market? In the city? But I like to stay at home and dance around naked and paint
And I don’t want to go hunting
I want to just happen upon my lover somewhere
But I keep not happening upon them