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I don’t know how long it’ll be before my urges get the best of me.

It feels like they are baking, rising, pulsing — taking their time.

I’m absolutely blind right now, insatiable even.

And I’m trying to frame it through a lens of beauty instead of criticism, instead of wondering “What’s wrong with me?”

But its shocking and a little unnerving.

Trouble wants to take me to bed and I have to admit that I find the premise attractive.

I’m trying not to toe the line. Slip back into old, sordid, unsavory behavior.

I know what I’m doing. I’m grown…& sometimes I wish I could be 17 when I didn’t know better. When I fell for things instead of seeking them out.

All I know is that a woman should always, no matter what, have her own world, her own secrets. But I do concede that it matters what the secrets are.

That’s what I’m trying to remind myself of.

I should reject all the others and opt for sweet, benign secrets — those that are adorned with roses, lavender — all the gorgeous flowers.

—M