A Kawaii Memoir


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Posts tagged Prompt
ID’s Natural Market

Written 04/19/18

The affliction of lust, boils the blood intimately.  Driving skin to crave warm caresses, and dive in the decadence of soiled sheets.

The pleasure of innocence lost, and knowledge at the climax. Perhaps it’s a study session in climaxes. There is intricacy in connection at the apex of smooth thighs, or decibels of pleasure ridden cries.

Smut dripping smiles, that beckon the weary to experience a physical inquiry. One that rides, and dines in all the right places leaving sticky faces.

The mess of lust is a market of fine dining, and workouts that leave us all breathless. Riddled with intensity or laughter, or hushed words of love in the middle.

The things said during the dance of sweaty bodies, the ones that leave the mind curious if there’s more beyond the decadence of touches and thrusts. Unaware that even here there is no trust.

The sheets don’t hold promises, only the mess of quick orgasms and unsatisfaction. The pillow talk, mindless in its abandoned insertions of the faces never staying long. The truth of intimacy is not a place to belong when the soul is searching for love on the wrong tongue.


- Lost in you, Jade 🌵 

We see Ourselves in Shadows

WRITTEN: 04/03/18

Why is it that we see ourselves in shadows? A version of our existence that extends itself before us. It's not just light, and tricks that follow us, but the memory of our presence in this time and place. It is the reminder that here in this moment you are living, and no matter what shadows encase us we exist.

So we see ourselves in our shadows, whether it is the moment we step outside or in the space where we stand. We see ourselves when we sit and when we grieve. We see ourselves among others and alone. No matter where we are, our shadows are there, an afterthought to the time and space we choose to exist in.

A reminder of the life we lead. An afterimage to the existence of the person we were meant to be.


~ Jade

Softest Silence

Written 01/20/17

Whiteness is the presence that believes and benefits in privilege

A violent concept, crafted on the bodies of many

This privilege to exist without worry

nor punishment from social jury

To live in peace

To exist in peace

Does it come as a surprise that there is silence in whiteness?

It shouldn't. When the world gives you room to be, 

why would you fight for things outside of your comfort?


There is no reason to, this drug of whiteness is the high of power.

to conceive a world where there isn't whiteness at the pinnacle of all things is nonsensical.


So what silence is the softest? It is whiteness in times that challenge their way of the world. 






Pink Cadillac Margarita (2017)

Written 12/13/17

It's the zing of tequila that makes me remember those cherry kisses,

Whims led me to crave those wolfish eyes that even angels miss.

Along that sugar rim, I taste your stories, a delicate bowl of self and society,

Where even my love touched upon a lustful sobriety. 

Little lime to dance around and bring me to laughing mornings,

A delightful memory to bring my soul to the severest mourning.

I miss your mix in my bleak watered down days,

Still cluttered in the decaying ice is my lover and his Cadillac ways. 

A luxury my heart can't afford, yet my soul makes it an accord.