A fan of silken hair, left tangled and fallen along the semi-rough fabric of her sheets. Halo bright resemblence a faint sigh couldnt help but part slickly coated lips. Not coated, with sin. With passion, or with the customary angst of black. But the simple sheen of Wild Cherry chapstick. Innocent was in the lush curve of her lips, despite their delicious fullness that some had referred to as, "Dick Suckin' Lips..". Funny how, occasionally, the world can reflect your own inner fetish's upon your face without your knowledge. Thoughts tumbled easily around her head, she could be described as someone who at turns. Thought to much and thought to little. The first about things in her life, the latter about her actions before she does them.

Perhaps she worried a bit to much, often she found herself going into a daze about her little insecurities when in regards to everything from her appearance to how others feel about her, and how she felt about herself.

Turning over and onto her side she curled a lushly padded arm under her head, resting a cheek against the padded white flesh. She was to pale for her own good, and she hardly ever went out in the sun. Though you wouldnt know it by the myriad freckles that tainted pale-pale skin. They ranged from the color of brown sugar to the lightest of brown and coated her arms, knee's, shoulder and the occasional spattering on her legs. She would often find herself, rubbing the curve of her cheek against her make-shift pillow of skin. The sensation of softness was pleasurable, and she was ever the pleasure junkie. When it came to feelings, masturbation, even candy. It was all her vice. That could be taken any number of ways, she could be something from a nymphomaniac to merely someone that wished to live lifes little pleasures. By that meaning, being happy and loved.

"I never wanted it easy." That was hard to explain to people. They never quite understood that despite problems, this is what you want. Despite and because of those problems. This came in regards to love, as well. Have you ever read a romance novel, especially one by Johanna Lindsay. No one's perfect and the romance and courting is filled with strife. Despite that and because of that. They form this strong bond and intense love. It might be cliche to base something off a romance novel. Though can you blame the teenage that has nothing else to do but read? Most every child in this age has come up in a broken home, where else do they get their ideals? From the eager words of a writer, where the child escapes into the pages and dreams of things she couldnt possibly ever be, have or attain.

"I never wanted him perfect." This was meant for the mate. She didnt want him perfect, she didnt want him this stereotypical prince that would sweep her off her feet. She wanted someone that was flawed, beautifully, and perfect in his ability to rise above it. Sure, he's still working on it. Sure, you'll have problems. But nothing in life that was worth having, ever came easy. Isnt that how the saying goes? There is alot of truth in that for me. Why? Think about it, in your life, there are many examples. Growing up, healthy as a horse you'll find yourself sick late in the age, etc.. My thoughts were never to be blissfully happy, but balanced. Without the constant challenge of these two seperate personalities melding and coming together, what would be the fun? Despite the grandest love, if their is nowhere to go.. It gets old and your stuck in a limbo where you can either, give up. Or stay stuck in place. Would you rather have the ability to constantly love deeper? Or on the flipside, to hate with a passion but love what it once was? Consider the path of your feet.. Though it might become unclear, problems make it muddy, challenge makes you stronger.

Strands of ashen red hair caught against the headboard of where she layed and it was a slight sting of pain against her scalp that jerked her out of these thoughts. Shifting from her prone position, her arm came from beneath her and she regarded skin hanging from it with a lackluster sparkle to her blue-green eyes. 'I could stand to lose some weight. Im fat.' Emotions often shift and vary between the egotistical show of herself to the frown of disgust when she looks in the mirror. 'What if im not pretty enough..' Not for the world, but for the one that i want to make my world. What if all that holds me back from him, is how i look?

Another shift of mood and she was happy, instant prozac, she laughingly called it and a loving hand would trace down the soft skin of her stomache. Her stomache was often rubbed, friends, family thought her skin was soft and would stroke it as well as pat it. It was fascinating to watch her neice slap her palm against her stomache and complain when it wouldnt jiggle enough because she was well curved, but not -that- fat. Full petals would part and pleasure would be an escape. She would often think of him. More than he realized, dreams, even when she was awake were of the future and hopes and dreams. Because what she had right now.. Wasnt enough, she needed more. Her dreams were vital to her existence, shading her face in red and a hopeful gaze to bring forward. Things could be bad, the worst in the world, but her dreams when she curled herself up at night. Would keep her alive.