Lost in my life

I miss you in the long empty place
Between one breath and the next
Between one heartbeat
And the long hopeless till the next
When I wake
And your words are silent
When I sleep
Alone in my empty bed
Driving down freeways wondering if your up
If you’d like to say high
But can’t
My limbs ache for want of holding you
My words drip from blurry eyes
Out into the spaces between
Hoping they reach you
Hoping they bring you back
Heart beats waiting

What dreams may come

Do you ever think that the only reason you are still alive is because you don’t have a gun at the right/wrong time?

I do. All the time. More lately admittedly. It’s that it’s quick. You’d think that if I really wanted to do it, I would have a plan. And plan alternatives. I have thoughts. I do. That sudden urge to step up and off the ledge. The overdose on common things method.
Fuck, I carry a super sharp blade on me at all times. A couple of swipes up the tree, avoiding the tendons, easy peasy.

So what stops me?
Two thoughts.

One, That I’ll fail. And then have to deal with the additional problems afterwards.

Two. That I’ll succeed. But between execution and finality, I’ll get a call or something will change that makes me want to live. And it will be too late.

I don’t think it’s a sin or anything like that. I regard death as mere transition. I’d be going home.

So why am I still here?

Fear and hope.

Maybe we don’t all think of things in those terms, but for most, fear and hope will get you through the day.

For a lucky few they have love.

For most everyone else, add in a sprinkling of inertia and lack of opportunity.

Fear and hope.

The sun struts and dances

Heat lights the silence
Soft clouds drift in too blue sky
Rush of bodies bellow
Melting into skin
Sun beats down
Carving sound

In this pocket
Just the silence
Deep within
The tears
Cries of need

Looking towards the east
Looking towards a future
One yet unrealized
One which may never be

And the soft thump
Of a heart no where close
To giving up

But still
And pain wracked sobs

The pain a deep abiding presence
Alleviated only in the brief
Too brief
Of you

Love fool

We say that love lasts forever
But that’s not true
It lasts as long as we feed it
As long as the environment we grow it in can sustain it
At best that’s forever, until it breaks our hearts when they die
At worst its when it shatters and we need to run to cover to avoid being caught in the shrapnel

But most it dies slowly, in between. Lack of feeding.
Until all we are left is the hollow echo of the edifice
Filled with fuckups and missed chances
Filled with the haunting laughter and the heart ripping memories of promises made

Love breaks us all
But like fools
The best kind of hopeful beautiful fools
We keep trying

Wishing for a in life version of A Halt and Catch Fire command

Do you ever force yourself to stay up? Not because you have anything to do but because you don’t want to give in? Like it’s a form of control. How long can I go until I collapse? How long until lack of sleep gives me a total emotional breakdown? I mean, it’s what I want anyway, right? Because, I can’t keep waking up from panic attacks. Because that’s the only time my subconscious is allowed to start screaming. Because when I’m awake the only way it gets out is through writing or tears I can’t control. Silent screams used to help but now the screams just go on and on until I’m panting from lack of breathing. And it’s not a good look, is it?

Lack of control in a Dominant is seen as weakness. Odd thing though, when I have a submissive. A real one not that sex only kink thing(if that’s your thing, whatever works for you, just I find it boring). When I have a submissive, I’m OK. Or maybe just the right person as submissive, cause the gods know, people are not interchangeable. Probably is the right person. Fuck. It IS entirely dependent on being the right person.
I don’t know where I’m going with this.

Just that I’m punishing my self by not sleeping. Because she’s there in my dreams and you’d think that I’d want to sleep to be with her but I stay away as long as possible. Because I just keep waking up. And I have to relearn what I knew before I collapsed.

That life is cruel. And nothing can change that.

Other plans

I’m not looking for a different life
I’m looking for a life with you
I’m not running away
I’m running to

Yet here I am
this face
That slight smile
hiding the grimace
That rictis of pain
lurking just beneath the surface

Two interlaced
Pulled apart so slowly
Not a sound is made

Just a long drawn out scream slowed down
Sounds like wind
Howl of agony
Broken and warbling

Bled by hours
Glass falling from a high shelf
Seconds before impact
Just the panic
Before the pieces fly apart

Words left unsaid – a translated song

I fell in love in summer
You fell out of love in fall
By winter we were over

And I lost it all

Love forgives my trespass
But not our pain filled words
Our harshest insults
We reserved

This fallen lifetime
Our fallen hurts

We were happy once?
I can’t remember
Just this painful passage
Just this time gone by

Life was for the living
Now its passed me by

Let who you are free into the light

I hate keeping secrets. Even lies by omission hurt.

I spent a portion of my youth on secrets. On lies. It almost killed me. It came close. At the end, all I had was money, scars, and grey hair. The money is gone. The scars are mostly faded. The grey hair stayed. And a deep abiding pain that accompanies lies.

I spent years clawing out of various closets. Sexuality, society, BDSM. And at the end of it, I found peace.

But still people want me to hide. To be discreet. To say it’s no one’s business but ours.

But let me tell you. It may be no one’s business but ours, but it’s on them to turn their heads. Hiding is lying. Discretion is fine, but it should not stop a kiss or a hug or holding hands. If it does then that’s fear.

Just because I can hide or lie; Because I practiced for years, doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I loathe it.

I understand why hiding may be necessary. If life or liberty is on the line. But if not? It’s not worth the cost.

And sometimes, even life and liberty are not enough. We should be who we are. Shout it from the rooftops. And to those that would silence us, let them reap the consequences. Let them fear.

I said I didn’t like lying. I didn’t say I’d forgotten my past.