I am the best bottom you'll ever meet. I thrive at the end of a steady lead. I carry an undeniable need to be great at what I do. Let me cook you dinner and then fuck me on the kitchen counter. Take me out and show me off. Grab me by the throat and tell me I'm a good girl. Push me.
Queer. Fat. Femme. Mad as hell. Furious yet stable. Disinterested yet active. Convoluted yet uncomplicated. Practicing post-atheist witchy demon-prophet. I'm probably too much for you.
I am a brilliantly bitter housewife with a chip in my shoulder and a brick in my purse. Or a little girl wrapped in madness and theory. Maybe an angry queer, dirty and broken, grasping for stability. Mostly I'm the misandrist in the corner, critiquing your culture with a Jack Russel Terrier in my lap.
My sexuality is intentionality. My politic is exhaustion. My sex drive is a repressed catholic teenager who just got her first fake ID.
IMPORTANT NOTES: I'm newly sober and in recovery from recent trauma. No matter what, my recovery comes first. I'm not interested in a relationship, but am interested in keeping things casual and building friendships that can take their own course.
