RemoteUser
Posts: 2854
Joined: 5/10/2011
Status: offline
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This is not BDSM, this is not fun erotica. This is a Dom without a mask on, a frail human being. This is regret and a struggle towards hope. Consider it weak or unpleasant, however you like. Comment if you wish; it is copied over from my journal.
* * * * *
When I look at you
it's through windows that are blurry
and the dream I knew
it has tumbled, it has scurried
when you look at me
am I hollow like a spectre
is it me you see
or my failure to be better
I am afraid
I am ashamed
of me
When I look for you
I move slowly and I tremble
and await my cue
to become what I resembled
When you look for me
is it with memories distended
and if I would plea
would you be moved or be offended
I was unmade
I was estranged
from me
so I will lay here
in the broken ground
and wish to disappear
and wish to be found
When I look to you
it's with a hope I haven't earned
and I struggle through
with ugly lessons I have learned
when you look to me
am I still wisdom, or a warning
and do you believe
beyond the night there is a morning
(not mourning)
I will adjourn
I will return
to me
* * * * *
_____________________________
There is nothing worse than being right. Instead of being right, then, try to be open. It is more difficult, and more rewarding.
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