An artists rendition

Hold up a mirror to face my flaws
Saw you watching me
Quietly in the background
Mirrors show us things we cannot ourselves see
And how can such an image be trusted
It reflects but does it reflect true or
Is our brain trying to fill the edge of space with maybes
I saw you there
Crying in the mirror
No sound
And I turn and you are dust
Each morning
Getting ready
Fogging the mirror with steam
so that I can not see
Until I look and see
That I have become whole
And what I’m missing is you
This is what healing is
Another way of losing you a third time

Embrace as wounds close

Slip below the waves
Warm water washes away
Hands reach out
Catching before slipping
Further into peace
Long minutes of silence
The hush of soft breathing
You stretch out
Reaching both away
And back to touch
Eyes open to find you missing
Not empty
As if the scent of your heart
Lingers in my mouth
Acceptance
And the fresh scent
Of dawn

Valentine’s day 28

The hardwood floor gives slightly as I pad, nude, to the doorway. Sara lingers behind, packing up the first aid kit. My eyes scan the kitchen and living room looking for our pet, Tara. She was so deep in the pet persona she could be anywhere, getting into anything. My grin, at the thought of our girl, fills my face like a cheshire cat.

I spot movement behind the giant red fox we got Tara to mark our one month anniversary. Then I hear it and my breathe catches. My heart shudders to a near stall and my whole body goes still.

Quiet sobs echo off the brick walls.
No…
She must have seen us.
My heart fills with pain and regret. I rush over to her pen, practically running the twenty five feet. She’s crying. Her tears break me. Each one a testament to how badly I’ve failed her. But that doesn’t matter now. My problem, my pain doesn’t matter now.

I open the latch and she looks right at me, her face a mask of fear. She scoots back away and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I can’t stand this wild fear. The face of someone who is lost in the world.

I get on my hands and knees and and crawl to her. The sounds of her whimpers, so like ambrosia earlier are as ashes on my tongue. I’d do anything to take that fear from her. But, you can only kill a man once. Mores the pity.

I gather her in my arms. Holding her to my heartbeat and murmur, “come back to us, little one.” Tears spill down my face, trickle past my chin and down my neck. I’m lost to this moment. In misery. I’m a failure. I can only hold her and hope she forgives me.

Sara pulls up next to me. I didn’t hear her. She nestles against Tara. Comforting her with her presence. Her fingers intertwine with mine. I take hold of myself. Stop the tears and just hold Tara. Our love.

“We’ll fix this. Make this right,” I whisper.
“Tara, love of our life, this is a broken world. But you are not broken.”

Rambling thoughts on healing

The thought that we must save ourselves is the bitterest, most hurtful lie. We must be willing to work towards our own bright future this is true. But that we must do it alone, that we must depend on no one, that others must not act on our behalf, must not shoulder part of the burden, must not love. That is base falseness. It is a lie we embrace because our pain tells us it is true. And like all good lies, it has the ring of truth to one who’s hearing is distorted.

We believe it because we are wounded animals, bitten by those who came all false caring before. Who hurt and took and broke and wrought. So when another comes, and wears the face we think we know, we tell ourselves “not now. Not yet. I need to heal before I can try, I can’t let others close, I must heal on my own.” But is this prudence or fear? A little fear is wise, a bit of caution warranted. But hide away and wait as if some point will make you less broken.

I tell you a truth now. Perhaps it is merely my truth, perhaps it is more. The truth is, you will never fully heal on your own. You don’t see all of the places you are broken. You can’t know all of the pieces that are missing and you cannot build without materials that are not found within.
Someone must help. Don’t follow fears council for too long; don’t allow yourself the luxury of building walls. Do not trap yourself. Healing is ever so much harder than we think.

And alone? It’s a long, impossible road. One you may never see the end of. Nor beginning of a new one.

Valentine’s day 11

Standing in front of my fierce lioness and my rescue kitten, I drink in their stances. A smile grows on my lips, turning to a grin. Sara returns it, all feral and wild. This love that gives more and more.
Tara ducks her head but not before I see her shy smile.

“Tara,” I say softly, “Look up.”

Uncertain, she looks up. Her eyes meeting mine, waiting for the blow to come. I hold her eyes and say, “You are to meet my gaze. It’s OK to be emberassed. It is OK to smile at me. You hold your head up and meet my eyes head on.”

I make no mention of the master who told her to never meet his eyes. Who kept her deliberately lower than himself. Out of insecurity I’m guessing. Old habits linger and we work on them as they come up.

I expect obedience because they desire to be obedient. Not because I broke their will and this is the only choice they see. It is in that choice to follow that I find my greatest joy. I want them to consciously choose so often that the choice is immediate, but present. My style does not mesh well with brats but then I’ve never been a brat tamer

Turning my attention outward, I see Sara grinning. She knows that I just paused in my head to explain something. I do it quite often. She thinks it’s hilarious that I treat my own mind like it’s a Submissive to be trained. Returning her grin, I think well, she’s not wrong.

Tara is fidgeting. It fills me with a sunburst of joy. When she came to us, she would never fidget. That she does now is a great sign.

Letting the grin slowly die, I hold gaze until we are all serious again.

“Girls, The rules of the Day are as follows:
1. Be polite. Say Please, Thank you, May I. If you have a doubt ere on the side of politeness.
2. There will be other tops at this luncheon. They have no claim on your time or your self. Refer them to me. Be polite but firm.
3. If they cross the line, then defend yourself but try to keep it nonlethal.
4. We are declining all offers of additional submissives. Don’t lead them on.
5. You are my queens. Conduct yourself as proper ladies unless I direct you otherwise.

Lastly, Tara. Keep yourself to Sara or my side.

Now for the surprise. Tara. I will be declaring you as my collared pet. There will be a small ceremony and I will present you with my collar.”

Tara looks stunned. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and her mouth hangs a bit open. Like she was opening her mouth to protest, then thought better of it.

“You have worked very hard and you deserve to be publicly acknowledged for it.”

I look at my wife and nod my head to indicate to take care of her.

Sara walks over and gathers Tara into her arms. Tara starts crying in earnest. She never would have been confident enough to show emotion other than fear six months ago. She really has worked hard. I’m so proud of her. Now she will have a physical, tangible reminder of that pride.

It all comes from one place

We all sit in this stasis
Just wondering what our place is
Waking up we wonder
When will what we built, be plowed under

We’re treading water
Waiting to be reborn

But rebirth is painful
It’s not shameful
To cry our tears
To build up from our fears

We live by forgetting
Let’s change the venue
Change the setting

We’re all just healing
Our broken hearts reeling

But we hold each other up
Our hands around hearts are cupped
Keeping that blood
from spilling
out

Love is the journey
Make no mistake
Without it we’re burning

I’m a Sir not a master
I’ve helped others through disaster
Build you up to set you free
Maybe, someday, that’ll be me

My future choices

After so many missteps, I must begin to consider that it isn’t bad luck. I must accept that the people who I am attracted to are hurting in some way. I think because my first love was hurting and I was her strength. Indeed, we drew strength from each other. So perhaps I’m looking for the echo of that relationship in future relationships. I’m not doing it consciously. But I need to exam my attraction more closely. Not because desiring to help is bad necessarily but to do it as an acquaintance or advisor may be a better option for me emotionally. Going forward anyway. Choices made are already made and I must live in the shadow of those choices.