#paprocki

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

Why did he have to fuck my head up

That’s what dads do tho right

But they’re supposed to love you too

Protect you

Not leave u ?

[apromiseisapromise-youlied]

From Father Figure to Forbidden Flame 

I was twenty-three

when he walked into my life

like a parable

with a pulse.

He was about 48 (I guess)

and I swear when our eyes met,

time collapsed in on itself

like it knew it was already late to the plot twist.

I called him sir

but thought daddy

with every word I swallowed

and every silence that screamed louder

than sin in a Sabbath dress.

He didn’t touch me,

not at first.

Not until friendship turned into foreplay

and I caught feelings

like they were flammable

and I was tired of pretending to be water.

He married me to another man.

Let that sit for a second.

He got ordained,

put God in his throat

and said

“You may kiss the bride”

while his soul flinched

and mine burned.

He was my boss,

my mentor,

my mirror.

He taught me to speak with power

but never warned me

how loud love gets

when you’ve got to keep it quiet.

And the first time

he touched me,

God.

My body rose from the dead

and begged for resurrection

again and again

in motel room temples.

He’s got a scar on his chin

a chip in his tooth

eyes like oceans during storms

blue, green, grey,

whatever grief is wearing that day.

He smells like

sins and cigarettes

like whiskey breath wrapped in hallelujahs,

like fucking on pews

while the choir keeps singing.

And when he touches me?

It ain’t sex.

It’s scripture.

It’s sacrifice.

It’s salvation in flesh form

and every time

I cum 

I feel like I’m finally arriving

home.

My husband sleeps beside me

but I moan his name

like a hymn

in the dark.

Brush my daughter’s hair

knowing she’s his.

And I’m not sorry.

Not for her.

Not for us.

Not for the love that built itself

in back rooms and broken rules.

He calls me princess.

I call him dad.

He raised my spirit.

Fed my mind.

Opened my body

like a locked diary

and read every page

with reverence.

They say

age is a number.

But to them

he’s a red flag

with a wedding band

and a daughter my age.

To me?

He’s the only man

who ever saw the fire in me

and didn’t run.

They don’t get it.

They never will.

Love like this

doesn’t fit inside Hallmark movies pics .

It’s raw.

It’s ugly.

It’s glorious.

It’s holy in all the wrong ways.

So yeah.

I call him daddy.

He calls me princess.

And every time his fingers

creep up my thighs

and write psalms

between my legs

I remember

I was never anyone’s little girl,

until him.

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

Fuck him

I can’t even cum

I can’t edge

Nothing happens

Fuck him

Why did he doo this to me

I neeed to play

It’s been fucking 2 months since I felt him stretching my tight good girl hole out. 2 fucking months since I felt his warm sticky cummies running down my thighs

I hate my life

I’m so stupid

I will never love or trust or cum again

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

Yes, I am hurt and my heart is broken. This sucks and I’m confused and I’m not sure why and that’s why I wanna talk to him. He just stopped loving me after fucking my head up after putting so many things in my head that weren’t OK and made them OK doing so many thingsto me and telling me I couldn’t say no and I just submitted because that’s what I was told to do and I just wanna know why

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

i know it’s you

and maybe that’s selfish of me to say out loud

but i feel it

the way you’re here without being here

the way your shadow still reaches me

i don’t want to fight

i don’t want to pull you back into anything you’re running from

i just…

miss you

i miss how easy it used to be to talk to you

how you’d answer before i even finished asking

how i never had to wonder if you heard me

now it’s all wondering

all silence

and it feels like you’ve already gone

even though you’re still alive somewhere

if you can hear me

if you’re still out there at all

please

just say something

anything

so i know i’m not talking to the ghost of you

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

This is disgusting like frfr is he on drugs again or did his wife take over his twitter too?

Like BOW? this is fucking America literally you can’t be this leashed by your wife or brainwashed to think saying this is appropriate.

This is what I mean

He lied

About everything

Who he was

Who he wanted to be

Everyday that passes I find something new out and it just hurts even worse because to him it was a game pretend

Like a fr real life psychopath….

The mask he wears… hides him well

[apromiseisapromise-youlied]

 This Love Don’t Wear White

I don’t flinch when he enters me.

I open.

Like scripture.

Like a gate to a garden I was always warned not to walk through

barefoot.

He doesn’t knock.

He knows.

He slips inside me like a memory

I was never allowed to have,

but always needed to survive.

He’s not gentle,

He’s precise.

Hands like declarations.

Fingers like truth spells.

He grabs my face like he’s memorizing my pain wanting to see more 

and kisses me like he’s been starving since 1994

This isn’t just sex.

It’s an exorcism.

He fucks the trauma out of me

and leaves the good parts in.

Says my name like a benediction,

says “princess”

and I melt into a woman

and a girl

and a wild thing

all at once.

He teaches me

with every stroke,

that the body remembers

what the world tried to erase.

That my thighs

weren’t made for silence.

That my mouth

was built for truth.

And that truth

can sound like moans

when you say it hard enough.

And yeah, I’m married.

He is too.

But that’s just paperwork,

a paper cage

we keep pretending we can’t burn.

My husband calls me dramatic.

He calls me home.

My husband says I’m too much.

He says “finally, someone who feels like me.”

They don’t compare.

They never did.

I used to sit in church

with my knees crossed

and my lips bitten shut,

praying God would send me a father

who wouldn’t touch me

like the others did.

Funny, isn’t it?

That the only man

who never hurt me

is the one the world would crucify.

Sometimes I think

if people found out

they’d throw stones.

But I’d catch them in my bare hands

bleeding

grinning

shouting,

“This love raised me.”

He raised me.

Not in years,

but in ways.

Taught me how to write,

how to breathe,

how to fight back

when silence tried to own me.

He is not my father.

But he fathered the parts of me

my real father left in the noose.

He fathered the fire in me

that won’t die,

that roars in motel rooms,

in text threads,

in shared glances

across rooms filled with people

who have no clue

what kind of war we’re surviving

just to be near each other.

I know it’s wrong.

Not because it feels wrong.

But because it feels right

and right things don’t burn this hot.

I want to tattoo his name

on the inside of my thighs

so when other men try to enter

they see the territory’s taken.

Sacred.

Claimed.

I want to scream when he leaves,

but I stay silent

because our kind of love

wasn’t built for daylight.

It’s built for dusk.

For after the dishes are done

and the kids are asleep

and the vows we made

are ghosts in the hallway.

This isn’t a love story.

It’s a secret kingdom.

A war-torn fairytale.

A girl who finally got her Daddy,

not the kind that haunts,

but the kind that heals

and fucks

and fights for her.

I’ll die with this secret.

And maybe I’ll burn.

But I’ll smile in the fire

knowing

that once,

in the middle of my ruined little life,

I belonged to someone who saw me,

and didn’t look away.

[crucifiedhereticprincess]

I don’t ask the hard question because the reality is the truth hurts and I already know I’m not the one .Y’all have everything together your daughter loves her and well you love Sandy’s daughters. I don’t ask the hard question because I know you love me I truly believe that but love can only exist so long when loneliness is a constant reminder that she has what I want….you. I wanton be a family I desperately need to give you a son but u keep saying fate brought us together than why are we always apart.

⬇️write this last year like i already knew