A lifetime of words spill out
Hearts blood on the page
Desire, want, and need
Logic and emotions in sync
Ruled by nought but the moment
The moment and you
A world of spun glass and long stemmed rose whips
Screams and whimpers
Ecstasy and agony and the float
Feel my flesh, know that I am real
Ask and it will be done
pain
Vacation time
This sad fool in motley granted fleeting asylum in the land of ease,
a creature of despair made mad by joy
Sits calmly in balance until revocation
Then despair works it’s way from bones and bleeds on the night air
Raw from soft living
Pain of the past hits like a wrecking ball
Demolishing the city rebuilt
from
Dreams remembering they are nightmares
Shattered glass
Pain and need war within
Desiring to be desired
Sweet memories of sweet tastes
Shaken the pieces rearrange
Reborn in the changes
Walk forth renewed
Ancient worship
Pain, crimson and guileless
spills across your skin
arcing in raised Nazca lines
worship to my goddess
writ in pleasure and copper tainted air
The fire builds
I’m trying to write and thoughts of you slip in. I try to keep writing, but now I’m only asking myself, what are you up to. I’m thinking about what we can do together, what you think, what you’ll say.
The thrum like a plucked string when you call me Sir. How everything falls away, casual conversation and my day. One word and I am laser focused, need and desire building inside like a runaway thermonuclear reaction. The pain of us being so far from each other. I need you.
I’m losing my mind, out of control with desire. Want to throw you down and take you. Animalistic need drives through me like a flood. All controlled by the walls of Sir. Touch you to awaken your fire, burn with me. My dear, my little miss, mine.
Hold me?
I still love every one I have ever loved. I now say I care instead of I love. But this is just a safeguard. A check to maintain the status qo. It is merely that the pain of those lost to me is piled on top of the mountain of pain that I live upon. And each new pain begins to spin out, to cover what came before, in a thin layer that is endurable. How can I expect to find someone who will love me if I cannot let go my pain. Am I getting better or merely becoming better at deluding myself. So many nights and days I don’t want sex, I just want to be held. But, I’ll term it as sex because that is seemingly more socially acceptable than to admit to this weakness. This need for connection.
That is a male problem. We’re not allowed to seem weak. I can get away with crying in public, with being emotional and many other things because I am seen as strong. Unassailable, but vulnerability, that is too far. And truthfully I don’t care what others think, but social mores make things difficult. This is all cold detachment. An effort to bring myself back under control as, as I write this, tears stream down my face. So overcome am I that tears are my only outlet. I want my Morgan back. I want to hold Eric one last time. I want what cannot be.
Back pain?
My right back shoulder blade is in an immense amount of pain. I was losing my mind from it but then examined it and realized that it is right at the edge of my green zone and now I’m good. Weird how just a shift in mindset changes everything.
I want (obverse)
To scream
To cry out
To confront you
To kiss you
To hold you
To walk away
To burn the building down
To do anything to get your attention
To hide from ever being
To shout out, “why do I still love you!”
To beg you,
anything, anything to stop hurting
To plunge myself out of emotions and back into physical pursuits
And deep down, I thrash and strain, attempting to wrench myself free, while secretly hoping, you’ll say the word
Anything is better than this half state
How I handle pain
I have had a revelation. I handle emotional pain the same way I handle physical pain. At first the pain is new and sharp. I drown in it. With physical pain I can shift it into pleasure, and that’s what makes me a masochist. That learned ability to shift one to the other.
With emotional pain I use it as fuel for poetry or songs. But long term pains don’t go away. They fade from my consciousness. I am shifting the emotional pain into a room and closing the door. I do the same with physical pain.
I acknowledge it, but if it is debilitating beyond my control, I shift it to my subconscious. My subconscious then handles it while my conscious mind goes about its business. With physical pain, this works and allows my body to function at a higher level for longer periods of time. With emotional pain it doesn’t work as well.
I need to unpack those pains and work through them. I can use my subconscious for some of that, employing my dreams to work through issues the same way I assign problems to my subconscious to work through. That results in occasional crying jags as my subconscious pushes something to the surface to be dealt with.
This process is thorough and I learn much about myself and my actions but it takes years to expiate the pain. With Sara it took eight years, a catalyst and then two more years to make it where I can remember without losing my shit, mostly. But I understand each emotional piece, each why and each feeling.
So that’s my realization. That’s why my pain lingers, and why people can see me as cold. My pain is a deep river flowing beneath the surface, only occasionally coming to the surface in ways other than writing.
Vanilla-*NSFW
A dick, a pussy, an ass, a mouth
To me these are all vanilla
Been there done that
If that is all you want, there better be an emotive component because otherwise what’s the point
But if you want to be owned, trained
Then I don’t need the emotive crutch
The process, the new, the interplay is enough
Tell me your dirtiest, darkest desires
I’ll make them come true
You have other lovers?
That’s nice, I like to watch, participate
with them, with you
switch me round, pain and pleasure
drink me, drown me
I’m good for 3 or more, then spent, fingers, toys and mouth
quiver and cum, I want your pleasure writ loud in animalistic sounds
whimper, tied up, ball gag, breathe play, the lash, the flog, the paddle
flechettes if you go to the edge
don’t believe that my ongoing quest for emotional relationships preclude the physical
I’ve immersed myself, lost myself in rut
I like going down so much that I do daily tongue exercises to build endurance
I’m a fat guy, losing the weight but still I can see why you’d go for the skinny guy,
But 3 things (always at least 3), I am an accomplished and practiced lover, many consider me to be attractive despite the fat, and I get off on you getting off. and if you are into kink or BDSM, we have plenty to talk about or explore.
I just need you to ask, to be interested. Unless we are dating, I require a smack to the face to show consent, open palm and smile if you like rough, we’ll discuss how far you want to go
Come on, come out
I’m feeling too emotional right now and need to lose myself in skin and pleasure
