Mirror image frowns in too patient disapproval

I wish in these moments of quiet reflection that I was more than this collection of bones stretched thin and lips held silent

I wish I was filled with light and good choices and could see roads forward that led me to my hearts repose instead of being stuck on this roundabout

I wish I could be content in a life of being alone. In this days stretched out unrelenting without
So much easier to dream than live out paths of blood and hope

I wish…but I’m a contrary man, never trusting what comes too easy. Sabotage joy before it begins with choices made too close to the impossible
Begging to be chosen but setting the scene to be left
Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to blame and I could never cast aspersions on someone I love

In our silences, we must all find our own reasons to stay

In the depths
In the dark
Pressure pulling down
Feet covered in muck
Lungs slowly empty
No panic
Accepted endings
Dying by inches
Unseen in the dark

Faces peer down
Passing by
Looking into the water
Seeing only reflection
Smiling

Pushing free
Swimming up
Breaking surface
Breathing in
Forgoing dissolution
…and maybe peace

To spit in their eyes and stand defiant

Nightmares are also dreams Part 14-Sara

The cold of the room settles over my body. Coating skin in quivers and goosebumps. The silence marred only by the scuff of shoes against hardwood.

The restraints hold me, light and loose. Seemingly free but growing taut in movement, I wonder what this configuration would be needed for. The feel of the silk felt soft and smooth before, welcoming. But now it’s one more sensation in a catalogue. Deprived of sight and restrained from active touch, each new morsel of information is held and savoured.

I feel a cold prickle, uncomfortable and almost sharp, work it’s way up my leg. The thought that’s it is a bug drifts into my mind and I jerk. The sensation is gone. For a moment I’m relieved, but the soft silence returns. And the prickle begins again against my right hip this time.

I hold myself still. Not daring to breath, and still it wends its slow way up my side and across my breast. Pressing pickles across the top and painfully pressing into my breastbone. Slowly it moves to my bellybutton and I begin to thrash a bit, panicked it will move into me. And it moves down away from there and before I can sigh in relief it presses against my outer labia.

The panic swells in me, almost uncontrollable. I scream into my gag and the sensation goes away.
My heart beats faster and I almost panic.

A warm hand slips into mine and I feel liquid. Pel’s here. The shift from panic to relief whipsaws me around. I feel warm and tingly. And languid.

I feel the soft cotton of his clothes and then his weight settle atop me. Pressing into the soft and yet unyielding grip of the futon style bed.

Swaddled in silk and Pel, the gag comes loose and is quickly replaced by his lips. Pressing light and opening my mouth with a tongue insisting on the taste of me. Dancing and fighting, we plunder each other. Letting it all focus away into this.

And then, I’m cold again. The removal of his heat hits like a slap against my body entire. The gag is back in place and I almost think that I dreamed him. And the room returns to silence.

Deuce and Seven off suit, all in at the river

I hate this person I am right now
This open wound
Seething pain
Raw and stretched thin
Reacting to any touch with Claws and fangs

I hate tears coming unbidden
Out of control and over the top
Like threads pulled free from stiches
Spilling out every hurt

I hate this semblance of ok
This cold regard that slips in
This quavering uncertain voice
Sobbing and breaking
Caught between strength and weakness
With no hope

Not even a sliver of future
Turn of the dice
Roll of the wheel
Spin of the cards
The Tower
The Tower
The Tower
Unheeded

Once forgotten
The old wounds
Knife sharp

Treading over familiar ground
Roads carved in blood