Poetry and lyrics have always meant a lot to me. I would love to call myself a poet or the writer of songs but that would seem somewhat like being an imposter. For now, they are mine. They remind me of times in my life when before I even thought about a blog or showing them to anyone, I wrote to deal with things.
They aren’t perfect and they don’t fit nicely into any category or type. They are just my thoughts.
Poetry and Lyrics
In the days that pass without your touch, without your voice, without your direction, I feel suspended in ether and vapor waiting for the fog to clear and the world to straighten. I wait.
I respect your need for space, knowing others are bombarding you with their needs and their wants and their demands on you. I wait.
My personal needs set aside, my friendship needs put aside. My strong desire to reach out to you for the slightest connection and communication put aside. I wait
You reach out to others. You talk to others. You see others. You fuck others. I wait
My mind races to find reasons you separate from me. My mood plummets as another day goes by and you haven’t reached out. I wait
You are always my priority, my concern, my worry. I do everything to make sure that you are OK and cared for. I make sure you are taking care of yourself because I can’t be there to take care of you. I hear nothing. I wait
I miss your voice telling me what to do. I miss your hands moving me to my next task. I miss your typed words telling me I am a good girl, I am yours, I am desired. I hear nothing. I wait
My needs do not disappear with you. They intensify. They multiply. They taunt me. I wonder what I have done to make you drift. Although you have assured me it is not me I still worry that you will not return. That you have found a replacement, someone better, thinner, prettier, younger. But you will never find a replacement for me in how I honor you. How I obey you. How I respect you. I wait
The minutes, hours, and days that pass without you needing me, commanding me, using me, add up. The continue to add up…
Poetry and Lyrics
The Journey Began…
When I started this journey I was unsure of what I wanted but knew I wanted what you had to offer. I wanted a part of you. Regardless of how small. I worked hard to win first your friendship, then your trust, then your respect, then your desire. I still question your desire is unique for me. How could someone so incredibly strong and handsome and sexy be attracted to the likes of me? Older, scared, broken, unattractive me. But slowly you showed signs that I may be of interest to you. And my journey continues slow and sure with you above me the whole way. Leading and educating and making me feel more secure, making me feel sexy for the first time in my many years. With a look, a touch, a phrase, you take this broken soul and mold it to a strong sexy confident woman. No one, male or female, has ever given me this piece of myself. I never knew it was possible until you. You give with little effort. I doubt you know how much I have grown with you. I know our situation is unique, but I never believed it would be so easy. Surrendering to you is as effortless as breathing. Thank you, Sir, for the strength, the lessons, the sex, the bruises, and the confidence you have forced me to find in myself.
Poetry and Lyrics
When you are not here…
It is times like this that I miss you more than I know I should. I struggle to keep the doubts that come from loneliness at bay. Not only at bay but submerged so they can not do the damage I know they are capable of. Instead, I bring to mind the times you have shown me your strength. Proven to me that I am yours. That I am the one, not the only one, but the one that serves you best. My doubts have no merit. The times you have made me realize my negative thoughts are senseless because yours are what matters most. I fell safe when you are close. When we are apart, I cherish the bruises and marks you have left on me to remind me that I am yours. Only yours.
Poetry and Lyrics
Your Ebb and Flow…
Your ebb is dark and desperate. I feel nothing but deep pain and desertion. I know that isn’t what is happening but I wait out the eternity. Do I reach out? Do I question? Do I request it? I know my answers but I push the limits of all of it. Your ebb is dark for you and that is the key and the point. It is dark for you. My job and responsibility are to make it lighter. I can not do that if you are distant. Our distance hard enough and when the communication slows to nothing I feel useless and task-less. Even more so than normal. I know you need to ebb. I know you need your space and I know I must respect that time and space. It is the hardest task I have. It is the longest darkness I know. More so than my own. But I wait and breathe as best as I can and lean on our past communication. I depend on your promises and assurances that I will survive and you will be back.
Your flow to me is intense and strong and gentle and intoxicating. I drown next to you and trust that you will bring me back. And you do. You always do. Your flow is my lifeboat. After waiting for you to come back to me for what seems like an eternity, you sail in and pull me from the depth of whatever hole I am sinking into. And I breathe again next to you. Breathless breathing, but breathing unlike before. My heart beats stronger, my labored lungs fill with clean dry air. Your dark eyes glint with want again and all the despair is forgotten.
You have given me what I have wanted. Not always in my time frame but you have listened to my needs and made me feel stronger knowing you are paying attention. You allow me to live on my own, and make my decisions as I think you would want me to. You compliment and encourage me when I have done well. You trust my independence and you make me feel stronger and that makes me feel sexier than I ever felt possible.
I use to hate your ebb and flow. With my learned acceptance of it, I have come to embrace it. I embrace the dark moments under the surface during your ebb because I trust you will be back soon with my lifeboat, to pull me from the depth so I can breathe again. When you are ebbing I cry and scream and doubt and question and wonder if I have done something to cause your distance. While it is dark and difficult, it is also strengthening. I crave every part of you.
I cherish the flow because I know they could be limited, short-term, unexpectedly cut short for reasons I do not know or need to understand, just short and unknowing. Every second could be my last with you for a while and I must hold on to each of them as they happen. When you are in it, you are dynamic and strong and dark and controlling and commanding and I crave every part of you.
Your ebb and flow… I drown and breathe… paired perfectly imperfect.