Tell me your secrets ‘ere I’m gone

Those glances you’ll never know the cause of
Those whispers you’ll never know the content of
Whips and chains
Driving us to inevitable conclusions in a me centric world
When reality
Real talk
People don’t give a fuck
Those whispers aren’t about you
Those glances are caused by movement out the corner of the eye and evolutionary biases
But we all clamor to be the center of the world even if that attention we get is negative
A justification for our actions
For our selfish acts
When all that’s needed is that moment of freedom that persists between obligations
That moment of acceptance when they smile and you feel that warm down to your toes and along your spine
But we keep persuing those unreachable goals not out of desire but from empty drive
To reach heights that others cannot and look down knowing you are triumphant
And empty
Such goals that feed only the jones’ only work for the heart blind fools and the slipshod illness of ego
But still we all want a little something we don’t have
Thinking it’s acquisition will fill some void
Feeding folded paper as if it were wood to the soft flames
Feeling empty and needing one more pill, one more drink, one more Coach bag, one more
Until nothing is enough
Not even food
Not even love
It all pales beside that addiction
Words flee the press of day
All hopes drain out
Until we break
And give up on the old
And start a new life
Inhabiting an old shell
But we are never the same
And old roads can never be tread
The future calls
And the endless possible
Free from more ambition than a beautiful breath
Calls out
Choices to be made

Sad eyed silent wandering

This calm frission
Edging out to storm wracked sky’s
Promised destruction
Give way to dappled rain
Life flows from a single kiss
The echo of a love found
In the quiet places
Of a heart forced still
A soft note
Rising slowly
Trembling
Trebeling
A note carried in the heart
Raised in voice
Echoing forever
A song heard
Becomes truth

Ask for me thrice and never will I part

Spin bled
Round read
Eyes turn again
Next fled
Choice bends
And back to you again
Learn blood
Sup FUD
And swirl into arms
Roll dice
Found slice
Made nice
Though pain paints its own picture
Hearts race
Lost face
Soundly laced
Choices back to her again
Quiet beat
Soundly sleep
Pain creeps
Eyes possess her all

Musings of the Night song

I must be a creature of love. It is a necessity. Because I am immortal. And skipping through the centuries with only duty and a love of nice things leads to emptiness and madness. I’ve seen it over and over again as the priests and warriors I’ve known have fallen away. Unable to take one more incarnation, one more trip the to this aetheric. It is what allows me to weather the centuries and while I am often in pain or in pieces, still, I endure and it is because of love that I do so.

Nightmares are also dreams Part 35(possible trigger warning)-Tara

I’ve been waiting in the bathroom for a long time. The shower pounds against the tiles in staccato bursts. The air is heavy with steam and the floor length mirror is completely obscured. This room has become its own pocket world. The world outside falls away and I am alone. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Alone, quiet, and safe.

My mind plays back the parade of boyfriends who hurt me. Who raped me in the guise of being a good slave. Who hurt me over and over again until they left. And I went looking for a new master.

I can feel myself shaking and shivering. Sometimes, when I remember, I feel as lost and alone as when I was with them. And sometimes I feel like that’s what I want. That pain and the total loss of control. To know that the man standing over you could rip into your flesh and you would beg and scream and he would smile.

Sometimes I wish Pel would destroy me. Would leave me a bloody sobbing mess. He refuses. Says I’m not ready. Says he won’t be lumped in with my abusers. It’s only in the quiet that I can admit that I’m waiting for him to turn. To prove that this is all just one long setup, that he only builds me up to later break me.

When Sara is around or Pel is in the room, I can never see that happening. But I’ve admitted it to our therapist, in a one on one session. She says it’s normal. Normal to expect the behavior of people who have hurt us in the past, to be the same behavior that we’ll always get. But that doing so, when all evidence to the contrary is presented, is self destructive. And it’s gotten better.

I think that as awful as the morning was. As monstrous as killing and torturing one of the Circles breakers was…it was the right thing. It has separated the past from the present. Put a period to the life I lived before and showed me who I am. Strong. Capable.

I turn to the sudden cold rush of air and see Pel standing there. Nude but never naked. Sara is peaking out from behind him, mouth open, showing the reason he was delayed. The white foam of saliva and seed disappears as she swallows it all.

My eyes wander to Pels cock. The shaft erect and pulsing.

Sara’s dark voice purrs out, “I’ve saved some for you my love.”

I look between Sara and Pel. Sara, mischievous and indulgent. Pel, calm and waiting, but a dark eagerness sitting just inside his eys.

I sink to my knees, the soft bath mat cushioning. I slide my mouth down the hard length of him, tongue pushing against his pulse. My eyes cast upward, asking for permission. Pel nods.

I pull my mouth away. Hesitant. I ask, “Sir, will you please fuck my mouth.”

Pel looks a bit surprised. It’s the first time I’ve asked for brutal treatment. He pauses long enough that I’m sure I’ll be denied.

Then, his cock is pushing its way back into my mouth. Slamming against the back of my throat and I hear the tiger growl of “Yes. Mine.”

A night in the lonesome September

Is it folly to love deeply?
To break bread with heartache in the slim hope of a tomorrow not promised?
To drink from the cup of dreams
Our love burns now
A fire unquenched
A conflagration which itself ignites and births forth a sun
And still I fear
For life has taught me that I fail
That love
No matter how deep
Or hot
Dies
And too often quenched before mine own

Or maybe not this time
Maybe in each other we are found
Seen
Known
Loved
I am a fool of hope
Painting pictures in my blood
Hearts beat
And soon joined
“How will I ever let you go?”
Whispers the dark liar
“She won’t want you”

I don’t need assurance
I’m no fading flower waiting to be perked up
I need her by my side
My champion, my conqueror,
Mine

Laments and triumphs right before sleeping

Tangible requirements make my life easier
Each precious morsel of information
Giving one more way to be sure
To be certain
To harness control
When everything is crashing around
Real facts are all I can hold onto
When my brain is saying, “She’ll leave you, doesn’t want you, no one does.”
This bit of truth about your favorite book
About the things you say
About the words and reals
Of us
They hold back the tide
You are not alone
And neither am I
We must remember this
Even when darkness tells lies
Even when it seems like the world conspires against us
We are we
We face it together

Peppermint lemon glaze

Dreams wake
Where pains echo in dark rooms made of flesh and furtive glances
Where lips pressed together and teeth bare down
Licking blood in soft moan
Whispers bearing weight
Promises kept always
Always better than promises made
The joy of half heard breathing
Murmured in ears
Heavy with sleep
Safe but not safely
Negotiated bliss
Watching her stretch
Mine in the warm glow of morning