The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

If a broken heart is blind better get to the eye doctor cause the cardiology department can't help this.
 
Is that a bruise or is your lipstick a bit off? Either way it's hot.
The lips are exaggerated like me, with gloss. I am not good at coloring within the lines. I should practice.

Love blackened my eye, and fattened my lip. I didn’t feel a thing because I beat myself up, and then I slept. I don’t remember any of it.
 
I had sex once. He told me to fuck him. He put his hard body planked over my body and said: fuck me.

I didn’t know how to do that, so I closed my eyes and made my pussy a mouth and sucked his dick with it.

And when my pelvis touched his pelvis, I knew I was in deep throat without a gag reflex.
 
I have never been made love to, but fucked all kinds of other ways. I was in a relationship once. He loved me, I knew by the way he always wanted to touch my face with his hands.

We almost made love. And then I put my mouth to his manhood. He asked me: Have you done this before?

I lied.
 
They say if you love someone set them free. I never understood that. I am pretty sure you are supposed to lock them up in the bedroom until they learn to love you back.

That has never happened to me.
 
I was two pages away from a happy ending when the batteries in my vibrator died.

Just kidding, I don’t insert objects into my woman hole.
 
Once you climb out of the safe dark hole it's so hard to jump back into it. I wish someone would push me, and leave me there to cry.
 
On and off. Up and down like a yo-yo. I'm on an up now. Thank you for asking :rose:. You facinate me. I feel like I feel like you.
I always liked playing with the yo-yo. Thank you for the complement. I appreciate it. :rose:

If you feel like you feel like me, I am happy to not feel alone because I am very alone right now.
 
The weekend at Mom’s house ends with: When you take out the trash can you get the dog doo doo too?

I went home. My Father was in the living room drinking coffee dressed in a bright red robe, sitting on a dirty red leather couch. I started cleaning in my head.
 
It is time to force the back straight with an imaginary rod that is surgically implanted by the imagination. It is located between the shoulder blades. It’s how I stand tall and make myself big in the room.

It’s not natural. It’s a conscious decision to maintain decent posture.
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I am the dog that walks with a tail between the legs. Nobody wants that kind of dog. I am not the puppy in the window anymore. I am just a beat bitch.
 
If I want him, I will have to go to him every single time. The pattern is very clear to me now.

And one day I will decide if I am Ok with that.
 
When he breaks my heart some more, who will sweep me up off the floor?
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:rose:
 
It is beyond all repair friends. The torrid love affair seems sadly over. I didn't get any closure, but I don't think I can go back for an ending.

I enjoyed the suffering, but I want to be cared for while I hurt.
 
It is beyond all repair friends. The torrid love affair seems sadly over. I didn't get any closure, but I don't think I can go back for an ending.

I enjoyed the suffering, but I want to be cared for while I hurt.

My heart breaks when yours does. :rose::heart::rose:
 
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