My call to arms

I’ve heard it said that the benchmark for love is whether or not you would die for someone.

It’s not. Death is Easy. We all do it. It’s going to happen.

No, the benchmark for love is whether or not you will live for someone.
Will you wake each day with the intention that today you will be as good to them as when you were courting. As when you were dating. As when you first saw them blush with their body. As when you first touched and your heart sped up a little.

Love is a emotion, yes. But in a relationship, it’s also a choice. The choice to love completely. To not allow all of the noise and fury of this chaotic, beautiful, mad world we live in, to not allow it to take over and intrude where it is not welcome.

But, people call me crazy for opening my heart so wide. And I won’t pretend that I have not been hurt. But, if I allow that pain to make my choices for me then I am not living. I am hiding.

I choose to not hide. To not be ruled by pain. By fear. I may not always know the way. But I know that love is my guide

Painkillers

slipping out

aches and reminders

of life

Pains forgotten
It all seems light
But on horizon

The struggle
The fight

Life without pain
Is seductive
Falsehoods generally are
Just a pill to make it better

Just a pill will get you far
Seductive song to get you going
Just as strong to keep you up

This will is full of knowing
When a little is too much

Spinning out

I feel like I’m flying apart. Like I can’t hold the pieces together. Like I’m falling. Like the earth is pulling me under, like drowning but not like any of those things because at least then there would be the hope that the pain might end. There would be a chance that something could help me. Some doctor could save me. Some miracle could fix me.
The air catches in my throat and there is a lump made out of pain. As if my body is trying to help by cutting off my airways. But it’s tried this before and it didn’t help then.

I hope that unresolved questions, that could says but not going to’s will become words and answers. That there are choices yet to be made and one of those choices will lead us back together, if we are apart now because, I don’t know. I’m fracturing and it doesn’t seem to end. I don’t know how to stop it. Some minutes are lost to pain and I can’t recall what I last said or last thought.

I hope I’m crazy and jumping to conclusions. That my brain is up to its usual tricks of reading far more into a situation than is true. Because I was somehow taught to hope, that sometimes they come back.

I’m every inch, being stripped to the bone, ablated, and I’ll somehow be alive at the end. Because heart break doesn’t kill you. You just wish that it did.

Weird dream

Had a dream where it was new years at the house locale and for some reason I was setting up a TV and stereo speakers. I was all set but my older sister was moving in with me for some reason and she thought she had a better way. So I said Ok and let her try. She set it all up but the sound was coming out tinny. So, while she was off doing something, I setup the system back to working. The dream shifted and I was in a armies camp on the move. I was with someone I cared about, whose opinion I cared for. And I remember looking at my foot and seeing it discolored and they saw the discoloration and were disgusted. So I began peeling the skin off and removing the nails. It was about a 2 or 3 on my pain scale. Putting it in perspective, a broken elbow is only a 4 and a tweaked can barely move back is a 5 or 6. Pain and I are familiar lovers.

After removing the skin and nails and wiping up the blood, this person was looking on disgusted. And I just gestured and said, see, good as new.

Valentine’s day 4

I spend seconds breathing in the warmth of my Morrigan, my Sara. The feel of her legs wrapped around my waist, the heat of her pulsing into me, tempting me.

I close my eyes and take a breath, then another, deep, feeling the muscles strain, pulling more air until the smell of her saturates me.

Holding the breath for three heartbeats then I push it out. Not breathing. One heartbeat, two, three, four heartbeats, inhale.

I reach into one of the toy drawers we have scattered throughout the house. This one prepped with something special.

I place a slotted metal tray next to us. I watch as her eyes light with anticipation and fear.

Arranged on the tray in slotted spots, stainless steel clothes pins. The tension coiled right to the point where it seems like you would go Numb, but you never quite get there.

I mound her left tit in my hand. The feel of her body against mine sending notes like a plucked violin string through me. My lip brush against her nipple and I suck her tit into my open mouth, pulling it in. I hold her flesh in place with my teeth.

Slowly, I bite down. Building pressure until I can sense the flesh will part if I press further. I release and pull back. The red indentations of my teeth circle her left tit. Marking her as mine, mine, mine.

Her eyes are a bit glazed as she basks in the pain. My glorious pain slut. I pick a clothespin and mound her right breast. I pinch skin up and place the pin gently over enough flesh so that when I remove it, she won’t tear. She gasps from the cold and her legs clench against me. She shudders out her first orgasm. Brought completely from pain. It won’t be the last.

Snuffed out

She stills my heart with the slightest look
Stirring my blood with a grin
Her words warm and light a fire within
But we are never to be

We danced the flame
The illusion
Only you were ever safe
With each step my heart cut to ribbons
To adorn you in my love

Pull away
Dragging the pieces of me out
Last attempt to get a stay
Execution and the pain
Sadly, better than the emptiness of never was