Ice knife

Beauty incarnate slash my heart
frozen blade
swift smile
in shallow pool of frost and blood
Sharp and tender
spill me out
Push it home
I’m tired of this slowly ending
Thrust it home
Numb the better feeling
Exhale crystals stained dark
Let it end
This drawn out damnation

Primal scream

I’m still in love with her. I know she doesn’t want me. Just wants friends. But I can’t be friends like that. All intimate and sharing, without love? I can’t do it. It doesn’t seem like I was wrong. Every time I escalated the intimacy, I checked with her. (it’s the Bdsm caution) Each time she liked what I was doing. Didn’t want me to stop. It wasn’t physical. She wasn’t ready for long-term physical relationship. Various reasons, reasoning I concur with. I don’t want her once. I want her all the time. And if that took time to develop, I was/am willing to give her the time. I still love her. I’m not allowed to say it. I still love her. I’m not allowed to show it.

I’ve known love but not like this. Not where her mere presence makes me and the world better. Not where I want to roll around in the sound of her voice like a cat with catnip. I’ve never fallen this hard.

I’m picking up the pieces. I expect to be doing that for some time. And I still can’t help hoping.

Words

If I tell someone that I love them, I do not expect them to say it back.  I, generally, just want the freedom to express the depths of my feelings. Why are people, seemingly, so afraid to be loved? Or perhaps I’m the weird one, loving people and not expecting reciprocity.

Spinning thoughts on a dream

The slow ratcheting down of heart and breathe.
A sink and a dream half remembered.
Sour with hopes crushed by the slow fleeting dip of times forgetting.
Drink and be merry but sounds trashy cousin lies through it’s tongue and kissing
lips parts company from laugh and limb,
hip toss, shimmy belly dance.
Give in, grow languid in sensual rush,
twist, taste with tongue, rasp,
teeth leaving impression,
smell heat,
soft breathing give way to panting,
breathe heavy with dipping lust,
break the twig,
fierce storm abating,
sip thoughtful from my blood,
sink down in moan and growl,
sad lovers at the feast,
grown weary, grown distant,
harsh and limited by the pressure of lopsided grin,
pirouette and fall, shards crash,
bounce tinkle like bells falling silent

Song for a relationship that never was

It’s a slip, it’s a fall
Its a wonder you know me at all
Its a knife to my gut
Its a whiff of too much blood

But I can’t fight this
No I can’t fight this

Its obsessed with your smile
It’s going that extra, extra mile
It’s my words in your dreams
It’s your eyes when I’m unseen

No, I can’t fight this
No, I won’t fight this

It’s this heart beating fast
And the thought that we could last

It’s your kiss of his lips
And my slowly clenching fist

But I can’t fight this
I’m trying to fight this
No I can’t fight this

It’s you walk-ing away
And me living another day

It’s your text when you’re sad
And my taking a last stand

I don’t want to fight this
But. I. Can’t live. Like this
No, I can’t fight this
… But.. I.. Won’t live like this
I just can’t live like this
I. Just can’t… Live.. Like.. This

All songs end

Her dark beauty calls to me
A siren song calling me deeper
A voice ranges down my spine
Electric it prompts me to dive
The crushing depths press in
But deeper still till heart slows
Breathe runs out
Oxygen depleted
But there she is within reach
I open my mouth to call to her
Then pop
The deeps crush
Rend, smoosh, blood colors the darkness
Far from the sky
My home

Counterclockwise spin

Despair grips, hope spilling away
A bauble picked up then discarded
Shattered, leaking hearts blood into the sand
Draining away until all proof of its existence fades

Singular in choice and foolish
Much as the pain etches acid trails
Try again, until oblivion claims me.

Thought on relationships and BDSM

Any relationship is going to be internally complicated.  The individual personalities,  the tug and pull of individual goals coupled together with the goals of the partnership, the internal and eternal give and take that must always be present to allow unique people to blend their lives.  There is a social dynamic at play that includes outside societal forces acting on the partnership as well. All of this ads up to relationships being difficult.

Not all the time, but there is always going to be some level of tension. At least in my experience. Add to that a secondary dynamic like that of a BDSM relationship and you have a very complicated set of parameters. If the BDSM is all “behind the bedroom door” you may be able to set up your lives so that they are compartmentalized.  This can work and for many people it does.

I don’t particularly like it. When I am in a relationship and that relationship includes BDSM, I prefer that aspect to bleed into and blend together with all other aspects of my and my partners life.  It’s, in my opinion, the only way to allow the truth of the life you are living to be your life.  This could be because I see the ‘behind the bedroom door’ as a way of closeting your lifestyle and speaking from experience the crush of hiding who you are is crippling on an emotional level.  Often so in ways and manifestations you do not realize until you shed those bonds.

To live that way in a relationship is an added stressor and stressors tend to accumulate the longer a relationship lasts.  The last thing it needs is something that you are effectively hiding from the world.  I’m not saying you need to speak as openly about the lifestyle and your life as I do.  Truthfully, I am a serious oversharer. Trying to ‘live out loud’ as I like to say means, well, being loud.  Honest and forthright about ones life.  It’s hard, but for me the other way was sisyphean levels of harder.

In any case, adding the dynamic of Master and submissive, to the mix of a relationship can be difficult.  But I think this is where hardcore adherence to the lifestyle is actually a benefit.  Safe, Sane and Consensual means that you are or should be discussing what is happening,  what all parties want, and what is and is not allowed.  The knowledge of the boundary lines allow all parties to blend their lives together that much more thoroughly.  If that is their desire,  or maintain separately,  but the discussion dynamic is in place as a go to.

Further the safeword or, my preference, Green/Yellow/Red procedure means that if something goes too far or you are edging into something that you don’t want to talk  about you can simply call a halt by saying, Yellow (let’s discuss) or red (stop, immediately, and discuss).  Because BDSM juggles so many physical, emotional and mental items it must have the artificial constructs in place to deal with those items. And those dynamics can be beneficial to a  relationship paradigm because communication and moreover a safe place for communication to occur is the strength of those of us in the community that take the core ideals to heart.

 

Desires

The simplest desires are the hardest to feed. I desire touch. To touch and be touched; not sexually, but to be held and told, even if I know it to be false, that everything will be alright. That you have me, that I have you. People turn that into sex or brush off the need but I can’t any longer. I’ve finally, irrevocably, come to terms with just how broken I am. Tears are a regular occurrence. The walls I put in place crumble when the false cloth of this constructed life is peeled back and all I have is silence. And a desperate need for anything but, coupled with a intense desire to hear nothing. Not even the blood rushing through my ears makes a sound. And at the end, I just want to crawl in bed and find that you are snuggled against me. I want your touch, the comfort and joy being around you brings, but I’m not quite delusional enough to believe you, or anyone could love me. But gods, I wish to be proven wrong.

Thoughts on Consent and culture(possible trigger warning)

Any culture that equates sex with success or with intimacy is failing those that comprise it.  It Feeds into youth culture filtering down to the youngest cognizant levels and takes over in those places where straight talk about sex is not present.  e.g.  in most American households. Further, since the origin of the culture originates with men taking and not individuals exhibiting informed consent we receive a nasty side effect of that cultural shift in that it promotes rape culture. In which the criminal who acts and violates the sanctity of another’s body is succored and made out as blameless while the victim is shamed by the larger culture. It is a malignant and horrific manifestation of the cultural shift.  I’m not saying that it is Not a part of the systemic male domination of society, I’m saying that when we allow popular culture the reins to societal value we ultimately give up control over how those values manifest.

I do not advocate abstinence, nor do I advocate free sex.  I advocate informed, enthusiastic,  and continual consent.  That men must be made responsible for not having sex when their partner is not into it,  that coercion of any kind is rape.  If you get into it and it starts hurting or stops being what you want,  then stop. Say no.  And if it continues from there,  it is rape. If you see that your partner is not into it stop and check on them.  Informed means not impaired, meaning not drunk, not high, told up front the actions that will be taken and what is off the table.  It may seem excessive,  but that is the culture talking.  It is what is necessary to keep all parties safe. Enthusiastic means they want to have sex as much as you do.  This is both men and women,  yes sometimes guys are not into it as well,  don’t shame them for it.  That is the culture talking, saying men must be up for it at all times. Culture is a blade that cuts all who hold it. Coercion is not enthusiastic consent, giving in is not enthusiastic consent. Do what you want, is not enthusiastic consent. All of these are rape.

The victim should not be made to feel shame for something that is done to them, against their will. There are no mitigating factors.  If someone was wearing something,  that is not an invitation. Being drunk is not an invitation. Being too tired to say no is not an invitation.  There is always another person involved and that person needs to stop it. Must in fact say no. Otherwise, they are acting as a monster, a criminal that should be ashamed of their actions.  They have violated the body, the mind and the emotions of someone. There is no excuse for that behavior.

I cannot express enough my disgust for anyone that rapes another. Our culture has become sick, we need to change it, otherwise we are risking the growing up of several generations of severely emotionally damaged people. Unfortunately, I think we may already be into the first generation.  We must stop the skid. But how to do that?  Swing back into the more conservative direction?  That culture has a strong record of failure on this issue and that failure reaches back centuries.  The only path forward is to teach informed, enthusiastic consent and to remove those components of congratulatory sexual conquest from male dominated society. I don’t know how to do the latter.  I can only continue to espouse the former and never flinch from the conversation that must occur again and again in order for us to change.