Monday, December 25, 2017

Little One,

I have lost the will to live.....You have taken it from me.....You took off your collar......You are no longer mine...... I thought I was the best....

I guess fucking not. You fell in love with her....You fell in love with him......Why the fuck was I not enough.

Years ago you stopped going into space for me....It was always my fault....I was doing it wrong. 
Fact is you don't love me, You love the Ideal of me.....

You told me that b didn't love me......that she was just a soul sucking cunt that ruined your life....

You gave her to me.....Said she was your gift to me, and I your gift to her.

Then you took her away.

You want me to be miserable.  Its the only time you smile.  That and when your with her.

You took all your submission and gave it to a stupid fucking little boy that will never be half the man I am let alone a dom...He is a piece of shit.  Never deserved your love.....but you took him from me too......Just like you took B.

You take everything I love away from me......The only thing I am allowed to love is what you say.

You topped from the bottom our whole relationship.....Always telling me I was doing It wrong.

You took your submission from me and gave it to that little piece of shit boy......when he didn't want it.....I couldn't console had to run to don't give a shit about me......i'm just a fixture in your life that you don't want to be without...

I want to fucking told me that B was killing us.....But you share her bed now.....will not even take your clothes off in mine.....I want to fucking die........Merry Fucking Christmas.

You will not even let me walk away and have another......yes little one, she does love me, and her collar is the most important thing she has ever had.....but it doesnt matter cause shes just a week little street whore.........She couldn't possibly love me, you have shown me that I am unworthy of love.

I want to die......thanks for the lie.

Yours Truly,

The Piece of  Shit you used to call master

Thursday, August 24, 2017


Irony. Life is full of irony. Most of it bitter lol.

Lost Boy (Omega just doesn't work, he'll always be the gorgeous cold fucking lost boy) ran. And I'm pretty sure my marriage is over. And life is kind of fucking lonely. And sad. And ironic.

There's four of us in this picture, you see--Alpha, me, her, Lost Boy. And the most bitter irony of all, is that we're all going to end up alone.
She won't have Alpha after he leaves me. And Lost Boy will chase a love who thinks she can sooth that beast to sleep forever, and he thinks he can keep it asleep, but he can't because if he could I'd have never felt that hunger from him in the first place. Eventually he'll break her heart and hate himself for it, and while he'll never know how deeply he destroyed me, he will see every bit of her heartache.

They were both angry with me, her and Alpha. Because I won't tell Lost Boy what he's done to me, the destruction he's caused...They wanted to know why, and I didn't really tell them.
In part, it's because I let that stupid lovely cold fucking boy see me, and run his fingers through my fucking soul, and maybe I just couldn't bare that pain to him. More than anything though, I wanted him to leave me with something good. I wanted him to leave me knowing that I'd always fucking love him and want him to be happy and I'd never close the door. I didn't want him to leave me carrying my pain. I wanted even just one of us to walk away with something lovely and light. So I didn't tell him how very badly he fucked me up. And he's not speaking to me, so it's kind of a moot point...Suffice to say, I'm emotionally retarded and it feels like I let that boy rip out pieces of my fucking soul.

Alpha and I no longer make each other happy. All the trappings we use to define relationships aside, it is important to be kind to each other. And I'm afraid that we're reaching the point where there's no recovery from the awful things we've repeated over and over.
These days we are D/s whenever it is convenient to the one making the claim to assign the blame.

There's nothing left for me here. Besides a good high school with awesome teachers for my eldest. Alpha works in another state, Lost boy is leaving, my work all seems to be across state lines, and our lease is up October first and will not be renewable...I need to make a decision. Alpha wants to keep a household here for a year, but he will be living in another state for work come January regardless. I need to pick an area code. I need to base that decision on what's best for my kids. And I don't know...I've given myself until the end of next week to make a decision.

I am so fucking tired. Through my bones and my stupid broken heart, to the depths of my fucking soul. I am tired. So very goddamned tired.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Dancing on the Edge

She said she missed the way I live on the edge.
He said he loved me and wasn't in love with me, but wanted to fuck me. Sex, nothing more. Nothing less. Then he said it didn't feel okay and walked away.
Alpha said it was okay. Then it wasn't.

They enjoy the way I dance on the edge
until they get too close.
careful darlin with what you broke
my edges are jagged and shattered
and I'll not hesitate to lick the blood from your fingertips
as it slowly drips
taste your sorrows upon my lips
just...Dig your fingers into my hips
and let the facade slip.

They like the way I live on the edge,
dance with the demons in my head
until they get close to my bed
there are dangers under my pillow
monsters in the closets
under my bed a story of wins and losses
never forgotten tales of forsaken causes.

Wander these city streets, feel the pavement beneath my feet
listen to my own words echoing through my mind...
I wish you loved me like you used to
don't let that motherfucker slide
I'm scarred as fuck and you're afraid I'll ask you to put the pieces back together
I love you
I'm sorry the world's gone to shit kid
I'm fine
your aunt stabbed herself in front of the little one last night
fuck with me some more and I'ma fuck you up
read me at your own risk
what's a nice kid like you doing in a place like this
sorry I got tanked and lost my shit
breathe through the panic,
the kids are good, 4.0 students all day long
I want you
fuck you
I'm sorry our life isn't normal kiddo
I am damn good at what I do
normal is overrated and easily debated
touch me and I'll stick a pair of scissors in your fucking leg
we'll all do whatever we have to to survive baby
I'm about to throw my phone through the damn wall
fuck me
I'm tired of being lonely
I'm sorry

They like to watch me dance on the edge
receive an invite to my bed
fuck a little bit with my head
watch me see red.
I'll sing for you, bleed for you, shatter my dreams for you
lick the blood off these bones, in midnight's twilight we are all alone
searching for something to call home
looking for an escape from the ache of this place

I am no cookie cutter queen with rainbow dreams
I am the teeth chewing at my own seams
the grey area in between
you and me
and all the things we don't want to see.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

No One Tells Little Girls...

Sitting here...
what's one more night alone and on my own?
wrap broken wings around myself
sitting unwanted and saved upon the shelf.

No one tells little girls that love hurts so goddamn bad
no one tells little girls how boys with big brown eyes will rip your heart out
and dance upon your soul
holding to themselves that which could make you whole.
No one tells little girls that the boy with the beautiful eyes will feed you to his demons
leaving you with neither rhyme nor reason.

No one tells little girls what it's going to be like to be a junkyard dog covered in scars
in a world which values beauty and nice cars.
No one tells little girls that fairy tales die
and that maybe forever, always, and everything is a lie.

No one tells little girls that love will break them
that the boys with beautiful brown eyes will always be searching for something else
that the broken toys, the girls with all the scars, will never live up to the fancy cars
that love is a goddamned war
and her heart will be a traitorous fucking whore
that they'll always be too much and never enough.

No one tells little girls
that they will hand that beautiful brown eyed boy their heart on a platter
and watch it be sliced into pieces and fed to the demons
that love completely lacks in rhyme and reason.

Why doesn't anyone tell little girls that their hearts are going to be battlegrounds
fighting an eternal war when that beautiful boy doesn't come around
that no one will hear the sound
as they wrap broken dreams around themselves like wings
forever waiting for some beautiful brown eyed boy to come around?

Why don't we tell little girls that those gorgeous fucking boys with big brown eyes
who smell like smoke and taste like hope,
who dance through their dreams and change their perception of reality,
are going to make their souls bleed with need?

No one told me
that the girl I'd become would be a junkyard dog
in a world full of purebreds
waiting by the side of some gorgeous brown eyed boys bed
needing to feed a hunger that cannot be fed.

No one told me that love could be so all goddamned consuming
that I'd spend so many nights alone on my knees
knowing that I was not the one chosen to please.

No one tells little girls
that those divinely delicious boys with big brown eyes
who taste like hope and smell like smoke
will have them crawling endlessly to feed a need sated by others
and goddamn the mothers
who don't tell little girls
that they love only at their own peril.

My father knew
that I would be a junkyard dog with the heart of a whore,
little more than a casualty in loves fucked up war.
But he thought that I would inspire
lift somebody in this world up a little bit higher...

The truth is darlin, 
that I'm just a girl who dared to love as a junkyard dog does
but nobody wants to live and love in a junkyard of broken cars
that an aging little girl covered in scars, who cares not for fancy cars...
She's a dream unseen, some other kind of being
who will never belong, cursed to always long
for boys with big brown eyes
who smell like smoke
and taste like hope
but really, those beautiful brown eyed fucking boys are just the hanging rope.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Fuck You Up or Fuck Me Down

I have seen the bottom of many bottles, worked my way through a lot of piles, 
and walked so many damn miles.
I have cradled demons in my hands and danced with lightning in the dark,
contemplating that eternal spark.

I'll fuck you up until you fuck me down
down down down, all the way into the ground.
Take a moment to look around
can you hear the weight of sound?
What was once lost has been found.

Contemplate those stormy sees
spend some time in the pouring rain on your knees
come on now
breathe into me.

Hold that space lost one,
that empty place I kept for you
in a silent room on my knees
asking only to be allowed to please.
So diligently you stand in that doorway
no other shall pass, just as you have silently asked.
Yet still you refuse to step inside the storm.

There's an empty space inside of me
I can fuck you up or you can fuck me down,
and so we go round and round
unacknowledged electricity fills the space between us
smoldering so strongly that I can barely breathe.

Can you feel me?
I am no endless sea
simply a perfect storm on her knees
whatever will you do with me?
something, anything please
fuck me down before you fuck me up.

Can you feel me like I feel you?
Back and forth we dance in the darkness
coming only close enough to spark the flames, never close enough to touch
I am never enough and always too much.

I have waited, I have waited for you
on my knees with my offerings
I let you in, fed you my sins
always a full plate awaits when you wander through that door
and you know, you know that I am a whore
for you, for him, for the deadly beauty you hold within.

So baby, fuck me up or fuck me down
and we'll go round and round
'cuz I hear your voice in my head every time I lay down in my bed
Feel your arms in my dreams
and see their reflections in your eyes when I look upon the sky.

One day you smiled at me
and I swear my heart fell into my fucking knees
and all I could think was
oh shit...This is gonna hurt like a bitch.

So baby on we go, round and round
stranger than the weight of sound
'cuz you fuck me up and fuck me down
and we are without beginning or end.

Friday, May 19, 2017

I'm Back

Aight, I decided to say fuck this shit. Bitch has taken enough of my life, I'm not gonna let her have this place too. So I'm back. Sorely lacking on the inspiration, but whatever. I can meme this shit to high heaven.

We like to wrap things up in pretty little boxes, tie them shut with decorative bows. and pretend that all the worst and most amazing things in life are neat or pretty.

They aren't. Life is fucking messy.
Life is learning that your 14 year old son hates his middle name because your sil's ex boyfriend by the same name used to beat the shit out of her in front of him when he was six. Life is finally telling your six year old to sock the neighbor kid back. Life is watching your son try not to puke in the bushes after finding a dead body on his way to school. Life is wandering through the downtrodden streets and alleyways of a city you used to hate and accepting the beauty in its broken depravity. Life is snow in fucking May.

Life. We deny how raw it really is because we rarely have the stomach for blood, and it's easier to look at the bandage.
But life is bloody and raw and beautiful. It's passionate rage and ecstasy, pleasure and pain...Life is madness and magic. If we let ourselves feel it.

Love? Love is a goddamned battleground. Yea, it's beautiful and it's fucking epic. Love will wash through your soul in an epic rain of blood and roses. And if you think it's not gonna make you bleed like nothing else ever could, you are sadly mistaken.

Love is watching your husband, on a weekly basis, go fuck the soul sucking cunt that fucked you over, and attempting to find some modicum of grace. Because it makes him happy and fits within the fucking parameters of being owned that you agreed to.

Love is having two men bitch you out about not wearing a coat when you should. It's craving the look in some goddamn lost boy's eyes when he's really listening to you, and the tone in his voice when he tells you exactly what he wants in that moment.

Love is an epic goddamned wonderland of beauty and shit.

So yea...I am no longer who I once was. But I am what I am, I am submissive to my very fucking core whether I like it or not. And that will never change, regardless of how I feel about it.

I am not what I once was, but I am what I am. And this place is still my story.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Nothing Left For Me Here

I'm done here. This blog has nothing left to offer me. I have learned that there is no sanctuary for some of us, no matter how much we tell ourselves there is. I hope that this place offers that sanctuary to some who come after me and read its words.

I hope that one day I shall return here and once again pour beauty out onto these pages. That day is not today, nor shall it be tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Another Blogaversary...?

Most importantly, thanks to everyone who left me birthday wishes--I have not forgotten that you rock and I still need to respond to your comments.

Pretty sure that today is my blog's birthday, but in typical fashion, blogger is screwing with me, and I'll be damned if I sift through every post of 2010 to get to the first one.

Ironically, this is also the day I chose to start another blog. I think that it's not going to be a nice place, or a happy place, or a place that anyone in their right mind would like to read, but if you want the link, email me or leave a comment. The point is that the soul sucking cunt (who really needs to pull off a miracle and develop the human decency to quit reading here), doesn't read there. So it's mine. All fucking mine.

I'm not abandoning this blog. I contemplated doing so over the last months, but I won't. It holds my story, and will hold many more to come. It is just not the place for me to get all of what I need out of writing at the moment. I am...Without sanctuary, and in many instances of the present, this place no longer offers me that.

When I started this blog in 2010, I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would find myself sitting where I now sit. In a city of half a million disconnected people, with a husband in love with another woman and working in a different state than the one I live in, with me loving another man who refuses to even sit in a room alone with me. And no fucking trees or rocks.
Seriously, I have learned that the mountains will accept me wherever I am. But they don't take me as theirs. It's not "home" and it never will be.

We all grew up with "magic". Every child learns the first basic protection spell as soon as they can comprehend words. Here? You're a bit crazy for even mentioning such a concept. Say, "I feel you and you're a beautiful fucking being" and you're lucky if that person ever speaks to you again without wondering how a nice fancy white straight jacket would look on you.

Recently, we "discussed" okay, fought about, the concept of removing the collar. The truth is, whether I am any good at it or not, does not change the fact that I am what I am. And we are who we are. He'll never agree to remove the collar. Ever. And I'll never have the balls to actually hand it to him and ask for release.

On the bright side, my eldest is rocking this life shit. You know those videos where sixty fucking kids stand around and record some kid getting the shit beat out of them, and MAYBE, one kid steps in for the underdog and breaks it up? He is that one kid. And I adore the shit out of him for the human being he is becoming. The path he chooses is not an easy one. There are consequences to standing up for what you believe in. Very few people in this world are willing to accept those consequences.

Too many people think that this D/s shit is easy, that being a slave is simple. The truth is, you never fucking know how painful and difficult it can be until your drowning in the deep end. I have come to realize how very few truly commit to this shit. And I don't mean that in an offensive way. If anything, I am envious. Very fucking envious. Because it is the only thing that can truly compound the sensation of watching your heart and soul disintegrate into a million tiny pieces. Because you can't walk away. No matter how badly you want to, or how poor your ability to serve. It's the only thing that can make love fuck you up even more than it inherently is able to.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Another Trip Around The Sun

Today marks my thirty-fourth trip around the sun. I'd be lying if I said that I greeted this day with an abundance of joy. More than anything, I think I greeted it with a healthy does of:

But the truth is, I won't go on my own. Hell, the truth is, Alpha isn't willing to leave her, and neither of us is willing to leave Omega. Home sounds a damn sight better than this hellhole though, not gonna lie.

It's a beautiful day outside. Omega's coming over, and I'm gonna watch all four of my guys cook me dinner. I'm fucked up, their fucked up, but I'm theirs and they are mine.

Truth is, they are my world, and my universe, and all the spaces in between. Four people in this world who would do anything for me, who I quite literally live for? Really, that's more than I could have ever asked for.

Truth is, I'm surrounded by my lost boys, and I'm just Tinkerbell from hell. And I'm more than okay with that. It's a good day because there's no other company I'd rather keep.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Kiss Me Again...

I died inside when he told me he needed space away from me to be with her
That he had made me a place within another to run
But it burns like reaching for the sun
One can only belong to that which chooses to own
You’re still just alone.

I reach inside for the light
Or even just the pure darkness of night
Only to find an empty space
A lost girl without place.

As I wander through these empty rooms, look up at my son in passing
And we take a moment to reminisce, about heartache and bliss
That first and latest heartbreak
Rest my head on that shoulder so young
With all those songs still left unsung
“Baby, you’re going to be okay. Tomorrow is a new day.”
Then I wander slowly on, because this shoulder so young,
Shaking and brave, is no place for me to drop my earthquakes.

Kiss me again
With her lies upon your lips
Touch me some more
With her vile heart on your fingertips
And I watch you fall further away from me
Deeper into her poisoned sea
Once upon a time I was yours and you were mine.

You said you needed space
To be in her and your place
That you had made me somewhere to run
A place to hide
Deep inside the soul of another
But baby it burns like the sun
This isn’t any fun
This consuming desire to curl up in the lap of another
To hide in a space where he never granted me a place.
Every night I see his face
And all these songs left unsung
They ache, so quiet in their heartbreak.

There is no escape in the darkness of night
She’s there by your side every time
And so I use him, to push her out of my mind
Knowing that they cannot both exist within the same space and time
But baby, he isn’t mine
And we both know it’s a crime
And I must stay on the other side of the line
Find some way to redefine
Love and life, dreams and peace
These dreams, they will not leave me be
As all these demons, they chew on me

Knowing that I’ll never be his
As I watch you float away in her endless sea
I look at all these pieces of me
No longer trying to glue them back together
Just gathering them in my hands until I can hold no more
Watching them fall quietly to the floor.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Bleeding Out

"Bleeding Out"
I'm bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is bring you down
I'll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
I'm bleeding out
I'm bleeding out for you, for you.

When the day has come
That I've lost my way around
And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground
When the sky turns gray
And everything is screaming
I will reach inside
Just to find my heart is beating

Oh, you tell me to hold on
Oh, you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

'Cause I'm bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I'll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I'm bleeding out
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)

When the hour is nigh
And hopelessness is sinking in
And the wolves all cry
To fill the night with hollering
When your eyes are red
And emptiness is all you know
With the darkness fed
I will be your scarecrow

You tell me to hold on
Oh you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

'Cause I'm bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I'll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I'm bleeding out
I'm bleeding out for you, for you.

I'm bleeding out for you (for you)
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)
I'm bleeding out for you (for you)
I'm bleeding out for you

'Cause I'm bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I'll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I'm bleeding out
I'm bleeding out for you, for you.

Monday, February 20, 2017

Can't Hold The Pieces Any More

When you told me how you were going to wait until after to tell me to avoid my pain, I died a little more inside. And there is surprise with my mistrust. I believe it's not about avoiding my pain, but about avoiding your experience of my pain.

Colors faded more to grey, when you told me how I owed you, how you had carried me through life, and I failed you along the way.

I wanted to die a little bit more when you screamed at me that I had no dreams, which is why I had followed yours. It wasn't true you know, I had dreams. Too many dreams, so many dreams that I only ever told you pieces of the things I once wanted to be. But it never occurred to me to hold them against you, never saw them as the loss which you see all that you gave to me.

When you told me you were starting to not want to be with me anymore, it stung me to my very core. To realize that you would leave me. Truth is, in a way, you already have. You just don't want it to be true.

You tell me how I have failed you so many times along the way, and now this is your day. Mine will never come, or has long gone on, I accepted that long ago. You were my day. Eventually comes night and everything fades away.

I sit and stare at my heart on the floor.
You believe I owe you everything
and I continue to come up short on payments I never knew I owed
it's none of my business the paths you choose to walk
I'll get over it and let it go, shut my mouth and not look at the show
if I want you to stay
yet you have no intention of releasing me
you need to be free
and I'll die here on my knees
in the puddle of broken dreams.
I can't hold all of the pieces any more
so I watch them spill from my hands onto the stone cold floor
wondering why you left me on the other side of the door.

I realize now, I really was never meant to stay. Strange of you to suggest that you don't want me to go away...Truth is, I'm already gone. You chose not to take me along.

You gave me a choice--my pain or your hate. So shudder not at your discomfort with my pain.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Behind the Veil

Over It

I'm so fucking over it. All of it. Just. Fucking. Done.
I'm tired of being bullshitted. I'm tired of her having anything to do with my life. I'm tired of feeling misled and being treated like a failure for not trusting absolutely.  I'm tired of living with the constant mental noise of half a million people and feeling so goddamned lonely. I'm tired of life. Just. Fucking Tired. I want to sleep forever and wake up three years ago. Want in one hand and shit in the other, eh?

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Perfect Storm

It's easy to say that I'm difficult to love, really fucking hard to handle, misunderstood, that people don't know how to deal with me because I never. Quite. Fit.

I am outrageously me in a world without belief.

It's another thing completely to realize that those words are absolutely completely true.

It's 10:00 at night, I'm browsing poetry and listening to this on repeat just loud enough that the child doesn't wake (pretty loud honestly. The kid sleeps like a rock when he's out).

I never realized that it was different to grow up talking to fucking trees, or never questioning the concept of controlling the elements, or feeling other people's thoughts. I never felt it out of place to hear the sentence, "I'm married to a witch, so"...

I never comprehended the concept of sitting on my knees listening to him explain to Omega that on my knees is where I communicate best, if you want to know my heart and soul, if you want to be heard and felt to the depths of my being, that is where to put me--any test of truth is going to shine through, me in my rawest form, odd to see I'm sure...

I didn't know that one is not supposed to laugh in millionaires faces and treat them like children when their behavior warranted such, that one does not (apparently) repeat unwanted truths to a CEO over and over again, or just outright fucking rebel against injustice, that to choke on your drink and announce that someone has no clue what the hell they're talking about is frowned upon...

I didn't know how absolutely abnormal it was to go around spewing emotion. That not everyone feels every-single-goddamned thing with a burning, all-consuming intensity.
Bleeding messy blood-red dreams shamelessly into a world of beautiful pastels...Creates difficulty.

I am not easy to handle. Part of never actually realizing that, was in not giving myself enough credit--if you think you aren't really all that much, you can never comprehend how much it takes to deal with you.

I could say that I am a combination of unstable elements, but the truth is, I am the perfect fucking storm.
"A 'perfect storm' is an expression that describes an event where a rare combination of circumstances will aggravate a situation drastically.[1] The term is also used to describe an actual phenomenon that happens to occur in such a confluence, resulting in an event of unusual magnitude. The term "perfect storm" is nearly synonymous with "worst-case scenario", although the latter carries more of a hypothetical connotation."

I used to think that it was conceited to think of oneself in such terms. Now my brain's like, "Girl, you just fucked up. That ain't no compliment!" so we're all good.

I don't know how people keep it all in, often hidden even from themselves...
How does one never spill rage when they can feel it exploding in flames around them?
How does one bother to pretend when pain isn't rolling off of them in waves?
How in the fuck does one love just a little?? How do you hide that shit, ride it out like a secret that only matters in the night, hide it from the ones for whom you feel it the strongest, only feel it halfway??

People forget where they came from, decide there's some shame in pain, and hide everything behind their good name. It's the name of the game.
And when I find that I have to play, I discover that those whom I love and trust the most are the ones who pay, because spilling it out to them becomes an all-consuming need, preceding everything.

The truth is, we're all humans desperately clinging to humanity's remains. We live, we love, we fight, we get each other all fucked up. Mostly because we are afraid to admit our love, and in that silence, we either don't love enough, or we love entirely too much.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Feel You

I worship you only in midnight’s temple
I feel you
Only in the moonlit garden of my mind
As through my dreams you unknowingly sweep
Softly touching upon things that cannot be.

And I only feel you
Making me wonder, are these delusions in my mind,
Teasing me with things you don’t feel,
Sensations that aren’t real
Knowing full well the deal
That they could never be.

Sometimes I think I’m fucking crazy.
As I watch you wander through my mind and things go hazy
Then comes the light of day
And you push gently
Oh so far away.

Close me out
Make me doubt
Because I only feel you
Perhaps I’m crazy, or maybe insane
Perhaps my vision and magic got lost in all the pain
I noted that, oddly enough, you never doubted that I made it rain.

Why didn’t you question
Why didn’t you run away?

We are strangely predictable
You and I
So carefully you maintain the wall between us
Often paper thin, yet softly unyielding in its prophylactic film
Yet there are those random moments
Wherein I look up and it’s gone
When there is nothing filling the space between.

And those moments, they’re fucking beautiful
They haunt me, no matter how much I try to push them back, they remind me
Of those things that shall never be
Yet a second after they’re over…
I know that my head shall never rest upon your shoulder
And the guilt sets in
Because I know
That you’ll pull away
An inevitable repercussion of your wall’s little slip
And because I know, that I shouldn’t feel as I do
That spark between me and you
As I am his
Destined to love and serve
Always on my knees
Eternally at his feet.

And I’m suddenly sorry
For that moment when our fingers touched,
And my eyes met yours
No walls, no space between, nothing besides you and I
For that beautiful millisecond.
Because, inevitably, I know that you are then going to step away
Make a space
And for me there is no grace
For I’ll remain always 
In my place on my knees in front of him
Wondering why I dream of your face
Wondering if my inner guide has somehow died,
Leaving me with only delusions
Of feeling you.
Wondering if anything I see is actually true
In a world filled with shades of blue.

And in the end
All I can say is that I’m sorry
So fucking sorry
To you
To him
To you both
More than my words can ever express
For my state of mental undress
Because I tried to cover it
Tried to drown it
Attempted desperately to remind myself that it wasn’t valid.

And so I sit
In the midnight garden of my own mind
Feeling crazy outside of time
I’ll always be his
And you’ll never be mine
So there is no rhythm and rhyme.
After those moments, when you let the wall down completely,
Those seconds of excess feeling
I am guilty because of how lovely and comfortable you feel.
And I’m sorry
Because I know that you’ll pull further away
Each and every time.

It’s funny, you know,
I am under no illusions that you’re an asshole too
You have all of that within you
Easier to accept in someone who does not own me
But I do know
All of those things you can be
And I don’t think that you completely believed me
When I offered you a home
 In acceptance beyond anything you have ever known
The definition of my cover blown

And I’m sorry
That I felt the call of, not only his, but your
Echoing through infinity.
For you are both
Far more beautiful souls

Than either of you could ever know.