14.5.17

Compositions

When what you say
   lights me up
and i want to paint you,

 the roughness, the edges,
   that twist of danger
   and all the endless
    softness
   of your touch your voice your smile

The unsurprising
   Revelations,
   your tendency to avoid
  "how are you" in favor of
  anything else,

my own surprise
  at how you
   illuminate
   me

How i want to sink in, to roll myself
  around in you, lose myself
     in your brain your psyche your tenderness
   The anger not at me, never at me
    Rather FOR me, my protection

 and i can breathe -
   hell, i can fly -
But all on my own, the wings
   you illuminate belong to me,

  the pictures you paint in words and care and
    admitting who you are
  me
   How am i this lovely thing you see?

How do i stay, this far, no farther,

  when all i want to do is paint

  your body your face your touch your eyes
   with my fingers, my lips, my limbs
Those eyes i want to climb inside
  the lips, shoulders, gaze that sets me
  longing, maybe
     even pining for the rest of you -
The what
   ifs
  scattered like milk
     and honey across my world

how do i not give in?

11.1.17

Realism

i write a lot. Most of the time i don't quite get what i want to say said. Once in a great long while, though, one comes out that evokes precisely the emotion i'm trying to convey. Even sharing the good ones feels like peeling my skin off and letting people peek under it, so please be gentle in any commentary. This is one i wrote back in December, kind of an over-arching thing.

The following is under Adult Content for obvious reasons, not least of which is the content of the poem.

Realism

The reality of this situation is:
there is nowhere for any of this
overflowing
wanting
longing
desire
messy
emotion to go, and you
are gonna rend your heart
on the rocks of "What if."

But goddammit, do those
"what if"s feel good.

Twining yourself into arms in thought,
if not reality,
kneeling and breathing and thinking and

what if
that hand were on your neck
in your hair
that knife were at your throat
that voice were whispering
into your ear

what if
those arms were holding
lips touching
bodies twining
what
if

That light he turns on you
all the dark spots lit by
seeing you this way,
What
If

you could kneel and know
it was safe to give yourself up
put yourself at his
mercy
hand over all this
bottled emotion,
submit

Just
keep
breathing.

Don't

Don't wish,
    don't think too far
  don't do it


 Do not open that door,
    the what ifs, beyond
  what you've already seen

Do not mistake this for anything
   but what it is -
    moments in time, nothing
  that can ever be.

  Don't wish

3.8.16

Bad Days

It's often on the worst days
   the ones where something catches me
   completely off-guard,
   when my brain freezes
    and then explodes in panic
  that i see the clearest.

 Those days,
   the ones i start spiraling
     out of the carefully
  rebuilt
    control
   the ones you catch
      when i reach out
  the days that
   i wind up
   prostrate
    with gratitude,
   limp with happiness
     feeling too needy for words,
    but so much calmer

   those are the days i see
    i am not a burden
        i am not too much,
   that it's okay
    for me to need support
    and that you don't resent
     my asking,
    that there are people out there
    who will meet my pleas
    for reassurance
     with care,
    with "we're here"
   with love.

The reminders that
   i don't have to bury myself
    in fear and doubt.

  And that stays
   on the days i want to hide,
   reminding me
   that the depression and anxiety
   lie
       that i'm a whole human being,
   and i am allowed
  to need you.

13.7.16

Lessons Learned

   i
   am
    passionate
   complete alone,
  but happy with
   some
    others
    caring
   intense
     afraid, but constantly
   fighting
     it
contradictory
   hedged about with protections
  instinctive
  emotionally motivated
   introverted
   unwilling to talk/unable to shut
     up
the owner of a mask that 90%
   of the people i meet
   will never
    get
    past -
  and if you think you've seen
  behind the mask,
   trust me:
   unless you have seen me
  undone by emotion,
      held me
   while i dissolved in tears
   or in the aftermath
   of a panic attack
  or had
  a three am conversation
   about things in the center
   of both our beings,
 you
   haven't.

i am
allowed to make my own choices
   about who i let in
i am
   too quick to accept guilt
    for denying the fantasies of strangers
   and i need to remember
     that while i am responsible
    for being honest
    and true to myself in my interactions
   with others,
  i
 am
  not
 responsible
  for making sure fantasies
   and reality
   ever match up.
i am
  quick to love
   and slow to let go,
   unable to forget
 but quick to forgive
and understand
   my forgiveness is for you
  but also
  for myself,
   because i refuse to hate
  no matter what is done.
i am
  a service-oriented
 painslut
bratty
 pet
  submissive
  and i am the only one
 who decides
 to whom
   i submit.
i am
myself.

6.7.16

Sex sex sex



  Lost

i so often
   stand aloof,
  closed off, turned away
  because once i let you in,
  once we've met
  in that intimacy,
  the craving becomes a thing
  so strong
  the smell of your skin
     has me reacting,
  much less a casual touch
  or deliberate one; i
  can only let so many
   in,
  or i might
   explode with longing:

   Let me learn you
  with hands and lips and tongue,
  run your hands over
   every
  inch
  of my body;
  let me find the places
   that bring gasps
   or moans,
  lose myself in you
   memorize your taste and smell.
  Find out
   what barely grazing my skin
  with your fingertips
  looks like under lamplight,
   day, and twilight casts,
how it makes me writhe,
  let my lips speak
  secrets on your skin -
Can we just
  be lost together
  buried in each other's flesh
  for a little while?

29.6.16

Wishes

Since childhood
   
   she has learned
  that wishes, spoken aloud,
   can be twisted
   perverted
  brought to life in horribly unexpected ways
   
   A child snatched by goblins,
    hearts ripped out
      or skin torn off,
  people twisted into
   caricatures of themselves
    by helpless, obsessive love wishes
 
   So she locks her wishes down
     keeps them behind her lips,
      inside her skull,
   someplace safe
     and warm
    and so private
 
  no one will ever, ever hear
    and twist
what she wants
   into some fucked up version
   of reality.