Saturday, September 17, 2016

She Knelt In Broken Glass...

I had dedicated myself to the bottom of a bottle of tequila, so while I was well aware that I was sitting in the center of a pile of broken glass, it took me a minute to realize that she was kneeling in it to kiss me.

She knelt in broken glass just to kiss me...Broken fucking glass...

Tuesday, August 23, 2016


He looks at me and doesn’t see
So caught up in her and what they could or could not be
I walk into a room and he doesn’t even look up at me
Having lost all that he holds dear,
I brought to life my greatest fear.

And he assures me that in a trail of sluts and drugs
I will make my sacrifice and pay the price
Prefaced with an apology for the pain
He looks right through me resting there on my knees
Trembling at his feet and wondering
How it works being hung over the edge by someone who dangles by a thread.

She consumes him with her fire into which he jumps with an overwhelming desire
And I’m being sucked out into the riptide
Drowning in the dark side of darkness
Nowhere to go, nowhere to roam, nowhere left to run to
While he soothes her mind and tries to patch the cracks in her soul
Regretting that he can never make her whole.

I knew there would be a price to pay in some painful way
And so I get to ride the edges of misery
Distantly wondering how he can walk her so kindly through the pain
And not notice that I am going insane.

I’m here. Here on my knees
I will fall off the edge just to please
I have become
A reflection of myself in a window with her standing on the other side
He looks right through me to her all-consuming sight.

I heard a song, and the singer said, “Do you speak to me like you speak to God?”
Oh yes
So many times spent on my knees
Somehow it’s a spiritual thing
Sitting on my heels
Shoulders back
Hands lightly clasped
Surrendering to the dominance of man.

Yet somehow now, I have found shame in what I am 
in the ways I that I feed my soul
in the paths I have walked to make me whole...
Whispering quietly to myself as if there were someone there,
 "Do you speak to me like you speak to God?"
I would have said yes, but I'm a bit of a mess
and maybe my communion, is just some fucked up union
of my broken pieces patched haphazardly together with the pieces of my darkness.

I’m here, sucked out into the riptide
For a while I put up a fight
Let go
Let it suck me under
Forget to wonder
What it’s like on the other side
Just sink and drown in the riptide.

For a moment
I was the moon
And I pulled on the waves
Created the riptide in which my soul dies
I formed the wave, dug my own grave
And made the bed in which I’ll now lie
Tasting the tears which we now cry.

My soul is black and blue
Seeking to drown in you
But you look right on through
So I give in to the riptide
Let it explode through my mind
Losing myself somewhere between space and time
Going under to the sound of our distantly echoing thunder.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Sounds Like Him...

I might be a little bitter that I didn't write this one too, since it reads like something that would come out of his mouth instantaneously...

Friday, July 29, 2016

The playground Upon Which Demons Feed and Hidden Desires Dance

I forgot how to write here. I forgot slowly over time, one step away here, another step there...
And I knew what it meant when we showed her this place, that one day I would sit down to write and pause. Because eventually, they will both read every word drawled across these pages.

A lot has happened since the last time I sat here, words pouring from my fingertips. A lot of reality fucking bites. But that's not why I'm here now. In this moment.

There is a natural ebb and flow to ttwd. We gave a lot to that job. We gave our all for a long time. Sacrifices were made, and one of those sacrifices was living in an ebb of D/s the length and depth of which we have never really fallen into before.

She said something that hurt my feelings. I should have gone to her about it, but I didn't. I balled up and shut out. I lost my words and retreated in silence. More than a little lost and confused...

And I once again realized something intricately entwined yet completely unrelated--this place, this slut, this sub, this slave...This is me. I am who I am. He feeds the dark twisted parts of me that crave to be alive, to be explored in the night, all the twisted little kinks and fantasies...The darkness is a part of our bond.

I was kind of pissed off that I didn't write this because I could have. Verbatim. But I love it. And I sent it to him. Because this is a huge part of who him and I are together.
He fed me tequila and took me out.
And there was more tequila.
He mind-fucked me until I couldn't see straight.
Then he did it some more.
He did a number on my mind, that took me a day to come back from. Dunno, maybe I still am three days later.
He turned me upside down and inside fucking out.

She has shown me that there is a space for me that is not subspace. That passion can be gentle and kind and still consuming. Fucking amazing.
Still I know by the look in her eyes when she half whispers about an urge to be violent with me, there is always that in me which desires to feed the beast, to be the playground upon which demons feed and hidden desires dance.

While she has offered very little judgement, there is a discomfort with his ownership of me, and some days I feel a bit bipolar bouncing between them like a ping pong ball. And some days I know that my life is fuller of real living, of really being me, than it has in a very long time.

I am, without a doubt, rather lost. I have payed some fines at a very high cost. I have given all and walked away from a lot this year. I have refused to live on my knees to a corporate entity, and the price of walking away from it is high. But there is only one way in which I desire to live on my knees, and that was not it.

This has been one hell of a year.

I have fallen in love with a woman.
I have helped build a business which would not have existed without me.
I have worked the kind of hours which did not allow me to see the light of day.
I have inspired and cried.
I have refused to be the mouth which expresses only the beliefs of upper management.
I have been demoted for being...Me.
I have made CEO's cry.
I have walked away from the closest thing to a real career that I have ever known
on the basis of where I draw the line as a human being,
how I can sleep with myself at night,
on the basis of who is there to stand up for those who had no other voice to speak for them.
For her.

No longer there, but still here.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Fuck Titles

It is absolutely, incredibly, amazingly, mind blowing, how lonely being in love with two people can be. It really is.

Friday, June 10, 2016

For You

I think a lot too. And one of the things I have learned about doing so, is that it does not always provide me with the best answers.

I didn't realize that you so genuinely believed that I would just leave you like that. I had no idea that you felt us to be so closely intertwined with the building. But that's not what this post is about, and it is certainly not what or who this post is for.

It's for you. The two of you, both of you, one of you, either of you, me, the darkness that dances in our souls, the demons which make us whole, the magic and connection which turns everything inside out and upside down.
I will inevitably switch between the two of you, but  you will see me as you invariably do and know that my words were meant for you.

You said things to me about darkness. About my darkness, about your darkness, about consuming my darkness.
And I realized something...This gift you have given me, to accept my darkness, to swallow my sins, to shelter my raging storm...News to me, as usual, that which is right in front of my eyes. What an amazing blessing it is to be able to hand someone my darkness that I may shine.

And it's crazy you know, that I can take her box of darkness for safekeeping, but not yours. Part of me feels a deep sadness that I cannot keep that for you, and some guilt that you have chosen to be the keeper of my demons and I want so desperately to cradle hers...
I get it now though, how precious and beautiful and painful to be the keeper of someone's darkness. Because I want hers.

I didn't want to be alone tonight. But it's okay. Because the pull has been so fucking strong. I feel you. Constantly. Both of you. And he feels you through me because that is what we are. It is sensory overload, a crowded yet lonely road, fucking ecstasy and fear.

I wish you could see you like I see you. Both of you. For you know not what you are, either of you. You are incapable of beholding your own beauty, which is, in an of itself, a beautiful thing.

Do you think that I or we cannot handle your crazy, your family, your own personal shit-show? You would be wrong. Do you think that I do not know when I need to be with my children, and when other shit comes first? I have made many sacrifices for them and will, no doubt, make many more. I am capable of knowing when and how I need to make those choices.

The truth is, I'm fucking terrified. And I try to sooth your demons, both of you, but I'm just me. And I need you to see each other with the same insight that you see me.
I am sorry that you are both my place, my saving fucking grace. I know that I'm a damn hurricane. And so are you. One a storm like mine, the other a shelter for all storms now and those which have come before.

Don't run from me. Run with me. Drown in the fucking sea. Take a chance in the fucking deep end for me. I'm worth it if I am as you say you see me.

Your understanding of me is limited by your perception of him. His perception of you is felt through me. It is not an easy place to be.
I think it scares you, this control which I have given to him, the control which gives him license to tell me which way to go. What you do not see is that his love of me becomes love of you. That he wouldn't ask of me to leave you if you give me that chance that was asked of you. That he wouldn't break your heart because it is intertwined with mine, that he contains my darkness so that I can hold yours.

I carried my boy to bed, thoughts of you both wandering through my head...

I am sorry my love, that after all these years I found an element like mine, one who turned me inside out and upside down, sorry that you feel through me all of those things she can barely see. You are more loyal than I deserve, more loyal than I have earned. You are a more beautiful human being than you give yourself credit for. I'll never forget that, never desert it, never dishonor it.

I am sorry my love that life is a shit-show. He is that which I have needed him to become, and you are that which I have come to need. If I am to you as you profess me to be, than I am worth a chance, worth that long slow dance. Many lifetimes before, come and gone, some perhaps together, other perhaps tragedy written in the stars, tragedy which makes for just one of many scars. But not this one. Oh my lovely, please not this one. Come see what it is to be warm. Make magic with me and trace lines through the stars. Show me all of your old and new scars. Take this fucking chance and be mine in this life and time.

Without you is not a good reality for me. Help me rise above El Mundo Malo, and exist in El Mundo Bueno. Help me exist where I was meant to be. And I'll do the same for you.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

I Want...

I know there are comments. And I love that some of you still take the time to leave me notes. Honestly, I'm on a good dose of sensory overload and I haven't read them all, but I will respond in some way. Eventually. I promise. Because I really do appreciate your words.

I want to know exactly how you like your coffee
the little things that piss you off
the moments that make you smile

I want to know what your favorite food is.
I want to know what your darkest fears are.
I want to feel
to see
to know
all of the things about you that you thought no one could ever fucking love
and love you anyways.

I want to know what wounded you and trace your scars 
I want to breathe with you
and float inside your mind
to follow the trails of your dreams through the rain
and watch the world go insane.

I want to know what your favorite smell is
what you think when you're not sleeping
the dreams you have of me
I want to know what your favorite tea is
to feel
to see
to know
all of the things about you that you thought no one could ever fucking love
and love you anyways.
I want to touch your soul
and know completely this feeling of being whole.