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Now is the time for making things simple.  I’m far too verbose, at times. It’s a mask, to hide behind when I fear the worst. I cannot define the worst. It simply is what it is. So, rather than mask what I know to be myself in fear of a completely undefined and unreal thing, I’ve decided to become naked to myself, transparent to the will of my own soul.

 

I love mouths. I love quirky smiles and kisses and breath.

I love hands: strong and scarred and warm and merciless.

I love backs. They’re a pure expanse of skin, heartbeat, and all good things.

I love hair and the feeling of it sweeping across skin or wrapped up in aforementioned hands.

I love honesty and boldness of tongue.

I love bites and caresses of tongue.

I love bruises and reminders.

I love restriction, domination, power, denial of pleasure, forced pleasure, and taking pleasure.

I love increased heart rates, heavy, short breaths, and begging.

I am desperate for my own collar. Symbols amaze and encourage me with their power of suggestion to the mind.

I love cock and I love pussy and I love them both and miss them when they’re gone.

 

I want a home, I want a family, I want a good job and a good life and a good husband. I even want plain old vanilla love-making sex. I am a hair stylist, I am a good cook, a movie fanatic, a Shakespeare enthusiast, a good swimmer, good with horses, and a loving friend, sister, daughter, and girlfriend. I am all of this first and foremost. I am also a fetishist. No masks involved.

 

 

I truly can’t seem to find footing. But who needs to climb? As long as you’re this soul I’ve landed in, I’ll stay here forever. Would you stay with me? Can you see anything here, with it all so dark? Can you see me?

I see you. Everything about you screams for my affection, begs me to the point of involuntary need. Is this how you feel? Can I possibly be the cause of that musical crash of happiness you spare for me? The blushing madness that fills me isn’t the only thing running through my skin. I feel you here already.

The giddy madness of this is only reconciled with the fear of waking. Don’t ask me to go. Beg me to stay. Love me for staying.

Oh no, weep not for want of any thing
Which, being gone or left or sought after,
Has caused thee pain or left a sting.
For I have loved thee for thy white laughter
And for thy keen Cheshire’s imitation.
Indeed, your tears cause me to forge my own.
If thou dost not love this tearful notion,
Let go your fear, let no sadness be sown,
For nothing does seem wanting or decayed
When I may see dear grace and love on they face.
But when I find thee so wholly dismayed,
My stomach doth churn and my mind doth pace
In anxiousness to appease that which takes
Your grin, or makes thy guarded heart to break.

Hidden away here, every breath is like rain on a tin roof. things are just a little simpler, a little warmer, a little safer.

i simply see you. like light on closed eyelids, like breath in cold air. i used to be so lost in it that it wasn’t truly visible. i had lost touch. clinging to words like ropes and thoughts like vapor.

i’m here. i see you. i breathe you.

i’m simply not fighting it. i’m not even narrating it. this one’s all you.

so dance with me. lead me, i’ll follow, and i won’t step on your toes. sing with me. love with me.

There was once a feeling of so much certainty i thought i must ooze it. i thought the exhausted thudding of my heart must be enough to break my chest. to knock the wind out of me. i thought i couldn’t lose.

i was wrong.

i’m still thudding. still breaking. still knocking.

come back to me, green eyes. come back to my touch. black curtains and lips and teeth and silk. come back to humming. that urgent hum of necessity. it was all a total mess of intensity, but i wouldn’t trade a breath of it. i miss every breath of it. every breath of you.

so here i am, mask aside. relenting. surrendering. here, i’ll chain myself to the wall for you. your very own andromeda. this is my own divine punishment, i suppose, for assuming i was right.

so i was wrong. do with that what you will.

surprise me.

shock me.

take my breath away, because you never fail to give it back.

but every once in a while, i don’t want it. every once in a while i ache for a bit of argument. a bit of restraint. a bit of total, complete breathlessness and awe. this used to be a staple. one in every pocket of my blinded world. i found it missing, then i missed it. now i despise the absence.

bring me back to green mazes and wings of gold. bring me back to dancing in darkness. carry me back through doors and rings and keep me there.

ensnare me.

push me. make me fall.

the longer i think on this the clearer it all gets. which, in all reality, is a total miracle. sometimes it can take hours or days to contemplate on howling and rationalize. it took me minutes.

so we’re designed to keep trying. designed to push and argue. i’m done with that.

we’re designed to let go when holding breaks bones and spirits. i’m done with that too.

we’re designed to break down and allow for waves and bends and curls and pauses.

I’m so. Done. With that.

because everything I want is right here. i just have to stop pushing. i have to keep holding. and i have to keep from breaking down.

i mean, really, the question here isn’t what i would do. or what i want.

it’s do i want this enough, do i love this enough to stop.

and I do.

salt just makes me thirsty. ironic, isn’t it? as sweet as it all tastes, as right and kissed and warmed as it all is, it still just makes me thirsty. nothing really satisfies it. nothing soothes for long. nothing but hands. you have good hands. strong. flexible. they sting with cold. they shock. maybe that’s why i love them so much.

all of this elaboration is fruitless, you know. laughable. honestly it all has me smiling. i may seep white and grey, but all i feel is good, black paths. because i can’t possibly write this. i can’t even find it. i just know it’s there. there are sweet dark eyes and questions and breath. that’s enough for now. it’s enough forever.

i can wait.

there is water. there is also screaming and fear. there’s glass. there’s wolves.
but mostly there’s water. and water hasn’t taught me anything! it flows and spills and cries and seeps and and stains. but water doesn’t hold. why can’t i hold?
steel holds. and there’s steel… but i can’t seem to hold the steel together. it melts. it bends. nothing about the water can hold the steel and be held at the same time… so what is water to do?
can water hold? water can calm. water can boil. water can warm. water can cool. water can caress.
but can i hold?
i can float. but not steel.
i can move steel. i can try.
There are wolves.
There is steel.

there aren’t words for this one.

well…

let me rephrase that.

there’s one word for this one:    absence.

it’s rather intoxicating. numbing. maddening? mainly… I just kind of want to sleep.

Not like you and I do on a daily basis. I want to really, truly sleep. The kind of sleep where you don’t dream, you don’t think, and you wake up wondering where you are, what time it is, and who you are.  I had one hour of this beautiful insanity today, and i want it back.

And of course I feel guilty and angry and empty and broken. But more than that, beyond all of that is absence. Something’s not here. So I’m not really either.

Every over emotional ballad i’ve ever heard, every claim of love, every sonnet is spilling back over my mind in a wave of violent color. It doesn’t stop. I’m attached to things i never knew and connected to things i didn’t want.

un angel del cielo…

i’m going to sleep.

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