This site contains explicit writings on kink practices, dominant/submissive relationships, and queer kink erotica (among other things). All characters in role play or non-consent scenes are consenting adults. Content warnings are included.
This site contains explicit writings on kink practices, dominant/submissive relationships, and queer kink erotica (among other things). All characters in role play or non-consent scenes are consenting adults. Content warnings are included.
if asked of the state of my heart
I would say:
(fill in the blank in a comment or in your blog)
exactly one year ago i became the apple in the eye of a love hurricane. it swept me off my feet and knocked me flat, took my breath and called it good. it was exactly the way it feels when something huge knocks the wind out of you. at first you just lay there, not breathing, mentally checking your own vitals to make sure you are even alive. slowly, you can feel your lungs wretchedly inflating, air entering them, your body tingles, and then WHAM, everything hurts all over and you are painfully aware that you need to stand the fuck up, right now, and prove to yourself that you aren't the type to fall and not get up again.
it's not like i care what anyone thinks, i just care that i am standing, with a sword in my hand, because i would rather die that way, than on my knees.
today i am standing, not helpless, but vulnerable, and i am strong enough to love again. oh yes.
"Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave
him use for it, a double heart for his single one:
marry, once before he won it of me with false dice,
therefore your grace may well say I have lost it."
sublimating rapidly between volatile gas and leaden lump
scared and strong and not subtle at all.
Shining with the crystal currents of love, veined with dark rivulets of doubt.
…hiding. Terrified. But still there, beating.
in yoga, two months ago, I stood in warrior with my arms stretched behind me and felt my heart strain forward. I thought, "don't be afraid, little heart." I'm still working on it.
Inside this bitchy exterior my heart is warm and compassionate and giving. I'm a powderpuff and thanking Goddess my heart is not in the state of shriveled shock it was a few years ago. However, inside the powderpuff is more bitch and more steel. Funny how people miss that.
So, in a word: Strong.
…batting her raven wings, furiously, passionately, against the bars of her self-built cage. There is a door, but she is *expected* to return to the cage, to return to the set of standards and obligations. She feels that breaking the cage is the only way to freedom. And she loves her loving, but not like she loves her freedom.
…running over with deep, bloody love. Dripping with juicy sensations and rich, returned affection. She is a pomegranate, full of bursting jewels, full of succulence, best enjoyed naked.
…fidgeting in her mousehole, quiet and perplexed. Twitching a glance at her boldness, her audacity of affection, and finding it unfamiliar. Running about, balancing and compromising, and maintaining – equilibrium must maintain. Placating the raven, admonishing the pulsing pomegranate – soothing, consoling, denying. Just calm down, calm down, now. There doesn't have to be this need, this wild desire. You can be satisfied with less. You don't have to destroy the cage. But they are not listening. And she is secretly relieved.
…Waiting
Wanting, and afraid to admit it to anyone. I just recently admitted it to myself
Seams stretched nearly to the point of unraveling. How it holds itself together in the presence of such fullness I'll never know. Considering its formerly shattered state, I count myself absurdly fortunate.
open.
… aching and lonely, because my own self is on the wrong path.
aching, torn, and yet….still open and waiting for her return
broken, bruised, hopeful, and full.
My heart is full of desire. Plump and ready for the picking like summer's berries. Sweet Juicy and full of flavor and yet, there are a few spots that are bruised from love past and the in flux and uncertainty that is currently present. It is mourning loss and change and yet is open to the possibility of love and adventure. It is safely sewn on my sleeve. Waiting for the tantalizing taste of her heart on my lips and twisting into my heart.
juicy. Dripping full of love, overflowing with desire and compassion and empathy. Sweet leavened with tartness.
xx Dee
tired. Tired of all my self doubt. Tired of trusting myself only to let me down again and again. Tired of learning from my mistakes, but somehow willing to keep up the education of life. Wanting someone to remind me there is hope, but fighting hard not to let anyone in for fear of breaking again. It's not the break that's painful, it's the costly repair.
confused, unsure, anxious and excited, scared, yet dying to proceed and learn new and different things. Bi-polar.
Non!
Rien de rien…
Non!
Je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien
Qu’on m’a fait,
Ni le mal,
Tout ça m’est bien égal!
My heart is currently broken. After three years that chapter has come to a close. She was my first, and I am left feeling like a crushed adolescent. "You mean forever doesn't mean forever?" Not sure where to go from here, but will keep walking. Feeling very "when the student is ready the teacher appears" – or in this case disappears.
Guarded.
Loss & Disturbed by the way life surrounds you with love & takes it away. Yet content with the fact that it’s not in a relationship.
smiling and open and full, loved and loving, beating with the energy of a 19-year-old and the wisdom of a 45-year-old, wondering (but not too hard) where the cynicism of the last few years has flown to. Singing along to silly love songs on the radio that it's convinced were written just for it.
Battered, weary, confident in right choices but not so sure it likes them. Aching. Ready, open. Exhausted, tight.
And getting there.
Weary. Drained. Bruised. Wary.
Sick and tired of being abused by me.
comfortably full.
…that it's nobody's damn business.
(the smartass answer? maybe. but also the truth.)
aching. Hollowed slightly and battered by doubt. But bolstered by hope and the proper tools for fixing such things. The restraints are cracking and fighting to let go so I can see the joy in my brokeness.
she does yoga, she does yoga now to control her pretty little flood gates. once it was all open or closed.
big wide open gates and love all over the place. gates shut not a drop.
she does yoga now and feels the flow, the ebb and flow. inside and out. a beautiful contained motion.
most of the time.
Tired, anxious, happy, loved.
I just wrote this yesterday..
—
tomorrow morning, chris and I leave virginia. it's been a crazy trip.. the craziest part I think, though, is packing up all of my stuff to take it all home.
I'm glad to have my stuff, don't get me wrong. and not having to pay an $80+ bill [depending on how late I pay.. haha] a month is fabulous. but it's also the end of something.. the end of memories of living with my girlfriend and our crazy assed jack russell terrier & my guinea pig in a cute 2 bedroom apartment in the west end with a balcony and central air..
our computers hooked up next to each other, walking the dog and getting the mail, making decisions, shopping, sleeping with someone cuddled up to me, our books and movies on the shelves, our dishes in the kitchen, making dinner together, loving and breathing and existing together in our own little space. I miss that. I thought it'd be forever. I thought I'd found love.
but looking back, I did find love. unconditional, throwing down, falling apart and picking up the pieces love. we've since then applied a lot of glue, duct tape, and string and put all the pieces back together, just in different ways.
when we said we were destined, we weren't wrong. we were just destined to be something else. we're better farther away. it makes the coming together that much better.. absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.
so early tomorrow morning, I finish my last bit of packing and say goodbye to richmond in a different way.. I say goodbye to the little piece of richmond that was home. the home of our memories, the home of my first apartment, the home of love built up and broken down, the part that will always be *our* home..
—
that's my heart right now.. if it makes sense..
…delightfully happy and satisfied. A long time coming and never could imagine that it could be this good. Finding myself blessed and wanting to pinch myself at times but realizing that it took some work on both of our parts to navigate some of the nuances that can trip you up. More importantly knowing that the world could come crashing down about us and it would be okay since we have each other.
pulled apart by all the different feelings of parting ways: anger, bitterness, wistfulness, hope, frustration, sadness, regret, relief, disillusionment, strength, weakness, hope. Hope that we can make peace, hope that I can move on, hope that I will find love again, and that next time, I'll be the better for the wear. Hope that I can work on myself and be happier for it. Hope that I can let go.
my heart is free
Afraid to take a step forward. Not even remembering why or when I became so afraid, because I sealed myself up when I was still using training-wheels and eating Lucky Charms for breakfast. Wishing I could tell myself then: don't do it, don't be afraid to trust someone else. Telling my heart the same thing now, but my heart won't believe it. It thinks it's wiser, but I think it's just lonelier.
louisiana.
it hasn't come out of the bayou yet.
I responded at my blog — http://missavarice.blogspot.com/2008/07/if-asked-…