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

What Day?

I fucking love Piglet. Don't have that much spark left though...

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.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Emotional "Kinks"

I know that I'm still ridiculously behind on replying comments...I haven't forgotten!

I was thinking about what turns me on, what gets me off, what makes me melt and creates that sensation of absolute, "yes, whatever you want whenever you want it" with no inhibitions or reservations.

What really floats my boat.

The thing is...They're my emotional kinks. And to call them kinks seems so trivial, so minimizing, because a kink is ultimately more about what you like than who you are...

Security. Safety. Fear. Loyalty. Trust--real true, deep trust. Baring my truth with no reservations and being accepted--being mentally and emotionally naked, which also ties in with humiliation I guess.

At the core of my emotional "kinks" lies having a deep and unquestioning sense of safety and security. Everything else spiderwebs out from that.

He's been trying. Really fucking hard. And honestly, I haven't done great at jumping off the bitch train. But I had the above realizations as he was wrapped around me before heading out the door this morning. Because I felt that sense of safe and secure rolling off of him into me for the first time in a very long time. And I just wanted to crawl into it and curl up, and stay there, and please it, and exist only there. Always.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017


Dominate is a verb. A verb is an action. You dominate a submissive. You are not a dominate.

Dominant is an adjective. You are a dominant. You do not dominant a submissive.

Get it fucking straight. It's not that goddamned complicated.
You're welcome.

Literate Subs Of The World


Sunday, January 22, 2017


I know that I have comments to respond to. I have not forgotten you, I appreciate you, and I will reply.

Alpha has tasked me with finding a toy/mistress/someone else...

And how this works when one's limits are not their own, we are discovering...

Yea...That really is all I'm gonna say about that one at the moment. Just needed to put it in print I guess.

I'm lonely. I've spent a good deal of my life alone, but this lonely is new. The truth is, at home, I was never actually alone. I cannot put words to those mountains and the magic and spirit which resides within them at the moment...

But I am lonely. Often I go into our room and sit on my knees in front of him...Yea, I'm looking for attention, I no longer care to dissect how my motivation for things is less than ideal--he spends that time on his phone or the computer anyways.
He is working primarily in a different state, only coming home a few nights a week, and I try not to leave the house. His primary focuses are work, sex, and other women--preferably ones with long term possibilities who want and enjoy sex as much as he does.

Before anyone who doesn't know me better gets going, making friends is not a solution--I am absolutely not in the least little bit interested in bringing anyone new into my life at all under any circumstances. I don't want friends, and I didn't really have them back at home.
I don't like people and they don't much like me either. The truth is, I really am a mouthy bitch with a crappy attitude, and I simply do not care to moderate my responses in an attempt to make myself halfway palatable any more.

Lonely kind of sucks. And sometimes life occurrences/circumstances, exacerbate the sense of loneliness.

So why whine if I have no desire or intention of trying to find people who might dissipate the loneliness? Maybe because the knowledge itself of people knowing how I feel eases the lonely just a little. Maybe because I actually think that I'm not whining, just expressing how I feel at the moment. Maybe because, who the fuck knows?

We had an argument the day before yesterday. He needed to go out of state for work and decided to spend the night so that he could get more done. I said a storm was coming and I wished he wouldn't because I wouldn't see him before Monday or Tuesday. He assured me that he would be able to make it home.
Today, I showered, shaved, moisturized, painted my nails, and contemplated his suggestion of a new hair color which happens to match that of a girl he has a thing for.
Not surprisingly, given the weather forecast, the road was closed tonight. He offered to come home via an alternate route, but this isn't our first time on the merry-go-round--getting home at one am means he's home for a day, asleep, then heads back out the next day. We agreed that he might as well just stay where he was.

It's lonely here...

Sometimes I wish that he'd just scoop me up for coffee, or to go sit on a rock, or go for a drive and stare at the sunset...Then I realize that I wouldn't be happy with that anyways because I'm never happy with anything and he'd just spend that time on his phone regardless...

I have always been conscious of feeling critical of him in these pages. Beyond that it's against my fiber to publicly critique my owner, I have always disliked women who wander around bitching about the men they married.
The truth as we are now, is that I'm a shitty sub with a drinking problem, he's far less interested in me than he himself wants to believe or admit, not winning any dominant awards; and we each seem to feel like we put out more effort than the other.

It's lonely here...