Feb 092014
 

In the dead of goodbyes, I would have swallowed my pride.

I would have set the past aside. No hard feelings inside.

***

But you, couldn’t see what was true. Couldn’t feel me and you.

You were afraid of what we’d do. I was afraid of it too.

***

I could feel you grow. You let it show. You let me know.

But you had to go. Excuses I’ll never know. Cards you’ll never show.

 ***

No more wailing inside. I patched up my pride. Your bullshit won’t ride.

No more reasons to hide. I set that part of me aside. A lesson learned in stride.

Apr 242013
 

You don’t have to pretend to even like the idea, but tolerance would have been nice.

To know that you tolerated her.

But you didn’t.

She’ll let that cook.

It’ll simmer till the rolling boil sets a hiss to the stove. And tears will flow like blood from a busted nose.

Then – She’ll  be tolerated.

She’ll be more than tolerated.

She’ll be heard. ~TSD

There’s always a show. You don’t always have tickets.~Unknown

Dec 092012
 

His bare feet padded back and forth. His station was spread out all over the room. Gagged and blindfolded, she could still hear. His footsteps were the only warning that she had. She. Just. Ached. The stingy and the thuddy were gone.

There wasn’t a piece of flesh to mark that hadn’t already started showing its colors. Now we’re done with the first set of tears. There was new life in him. Now on to the sobbing.

He was getting to the real root of his work. Rip. It. Open.

The padding of his feet became a distant sound. He was hitting her faster. Harder. She couldn’t keep up. She was about to cum.

Dec 072012
 

 

These flowers die. My roommate eats the candy. – Pull my hair

You are always on time. Thank you for the dress. – Cut it off.

You always open the door. Everything’s a smile. – Bend me over.

Open your eyes. See what I need. – Make me cry.

Nov 152012
 

Confession: The Stalking of a Doll

You open your email and his words make you instantly close it. It’s the shame of liking what he’s written that makes your face blush. The texts that he’s sent and you never asked for give you those tiny bumps up your arms. You squeal into the pillow, squeezing your thighs together. The gall of what he says on public sites, right out in front of everyone, leaves you slack-jawed. You look around in public. You’re sure that people near you have seen the same words and worse – can smell the wetness of your cunt. Each word is for you – to push you. Sometimes it’s a secret. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes he enjoys the humiliation that he knows you endure just to get receive a message. You live on his time. Even if only to pretend, you are his. When you shove your fingers in your cunt, re-reading all that he’s written – you are his. He stalks you. Making you his. You let him. In silence.

Jun 152011
 
I’m honest about what I want, but seriously.... 
I’m a girl and that might be different from day to day so *do* 
try to keep up.

Sometimes I’ll say shit like that just to see what you’ll do.

Don’t ignore me or I’ll lose it.

For reals – being ignored – Hard Limit.

If you let it slip, I let you slip.

I get in those moods.

I push.

I need to know that it’s there.

I need the consistency of that really raw, primal, sadistic ‘mine when you don’t want to be’ jama that’s not inside everybody. There seems to be a mysterious line between a Growl and a goddamn bug bite these days.

I need to feel it even when I can’t see it, and you can’t touch me. I need to feel it in that instant when you want me to, or when I know you’d want me to. I really need to be taught how to care about knowing better.

It’s in there.

What I’m asking for is some help in getting it out.

P.S. This is NOT a Test. These are the answers.

Apr 302011
 

At the end of the day, don’t be unhappy. Don’t be left standing there with the sun setting and the chill of the approaching night reminding you of what you didn’t say or do.

No one is perfect. We all make mistakes, but if you never reach for anything, you won’t ever get anything that’s not ever dropped into your lap. Say what you will, but when you fight for something, want it,  and desire it… it makes getting it that much sweeter.

After all, who the hell ever got anything worth getting by playing it safe?