Author: Pelgris

February 14th

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Valentine’s day. A day supposedly to demonstrate love to your partner(s). To plan something elaborate. I’m even writing a story based on Valentine’s day. Though that is more about celebrating the more social normative things while existing and living in nonnormative lifestyle. To use it as a excuse for play and special rather than the one or two days a year that people keep as special.

That is the rub. Valentine’s day is one of possibly 3 days a year that it is expected to be special. And most people leave it at that.

That is my problem with it. I may do something special because in our USA society it is ingrained and even if you don’t like it, not doing something is disappointing. But I don’t enjoy being forced into it.

I like romantic gestures and gifts. I like planning scenes or nights out. Writing poems or stories only you will ever see. I consider it vital that any partner of mine is cherished and knows, not just intellectually but bone deep that I love them.

And in a relationship that is all of the little things and small moments compounded by larger gestures.

I guess I just don’t like to be told this is the day you will know my affections. Plus I think the gifts and gestures should be throughout the year. No specific day should be needed for you to know how they feel.

I have friends who are in problematic relationships and while I don’t intervene because doing so would only cause resentment what I’m thinking is this: They made a big gesture when it was socially expected that they would but how do they treat you day to day, how do they demonstrate their love?

Note: Not abusive, problematic. Abusive and I don’t care if they end up hating me, I’ll take action.

Awake, aware, aflame

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I wake up at 2 AM most nights. No matter when I go to sleep, BAM, 2AM and I’m awake. It’s not too bad, I suppose. I get time to write. But my mind isn’t drifting to writing lately.

I wake, but my still sleeping brain reaches for you. I’m convinced that not being able to touch you; not being able to bury my face in your neck and smell you. Not being able to kiss your spine and murmur, “Mine.”

Not being able to do that, because you are not here with me, wakes me fully. My mind missing you, my body straining for you.

If I’m being honest, I have this image of you waking next to me, snuggling back into me as I kiss you and we move on to less gentle pursuits as I possess your every nerve ending, until you are floating in pleasures.

Not that we would not have been with each other before sleeping but I wake up with a need for less control and more take what I want.

These are my thoughts lately. 2AM without you.

Painful desire

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Surface from deep sleep
inflamed by my need of you
choking on my desire
clenched like a fist too tightly around a stone
a stretched string waiting for your touch
Waiting for the melody playing in my head to be given voice
but I’m alone
This pain recedes
never satiated
no action is enough
without you in my arms
To set me free

Madness

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I love you like a mad thing
straining at the leash
gnawing it’s own limbs to get to you
ferocious
blood spattered maw from any that dare harm you.

But tongue lolling out and dancing around
happy as can be in your presence.
This physical, visceral need for you burns in my veins
I struggle against everything that keeps us apart.
Mouth open, I roar my defiance
until bled out
the last dregs of energy bleed away
and only my eyes plead
stay

Rambling fire

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A slow burn like wet gunpowder mixed with dry, the ruined with the ruinous, the truth with the lie

A kiss is all I have to give, a touch to make one cry

I’ve fought my battles and lost my wars, I’ve drunken from the wells of sorrow

But then I saw into you, and breaking heart, I’m born anew.

But always, always burning

Don’t take me in your arms my love lest you be burning too

Or hold me close and trust, my flame is ever for you

Song of the Day

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This is what happens when I’m in a good mood and I wake to a sky filled with partial clouds the sun filtering through

Solitude amidst the crowd

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To be, nothing more
to experience, not expect
to feel, not need
to desire, not burn
to be at peace but not peaceful
to love, but not envy.

Life itself shapes us. Molds us into the image of our fears and lusts. It breaks us when we resist and washes us downriver when we give way. The only thing we can control is ourselves. We can choose to see the world as it presents itself or look deeper and seek. We can choose the branches our lives will take. Even when choice itself and our path shows as a single road we are allowed the freedom to control how we walk it. Ultimately, the only thing we have is our minds and ourselves. But this does not mean that we must walk our roads alone.