silkenleash

If I could look forward
just a moment, just a breath
into the life I ache for,
I’d see you.

Not the you I’ve met,
but the you my body knows before my mind can catch it
the one who never wavers,
whose hands close over mine like a vow,
so firm, so final
not even a dying sun could pull us apart.

I see nights not of fear
but ritual,
<

I wish for the silence

that deep, aching quiet where I can finally breathe,  

finally stop the noise in my head that screams for control,  

screams for order, screams for more than I can ever give.  

I wish for surrender,  

for the pull of your voice, low and commanding,  

that call, that *demand*  

that makes the world slow down,  

makes the chaos stop,  

until all that’s left is the hum of obedience  

and the deep thrum of knowing you’re there,  

guiding me,  

holding me steady in this wild, wild storm.

I crave the fall

the drop, the slip,  

the way my knees hit the ground without thought,  

without question,  

like gravity itself is a force I can’t fight.  

I want to be pulled,  

pulled under,  

underneath your will,  

drowned in it,  

lost in it,  

until there’s nothing left but your hands on me,  

your voice in my ear,  

and the sweet, perfect ache  

of giving in,  

of letting go.

Submission.  

That word echoes like a prayer in the back of my mind,  

holy and profane,  

both a longing and a release,  

a way to be found by losing,  

by surrendering everything  

I thought I had to control.  

I want to be undone,  

to be unmade,  

to be shaped again by the strength of your will,  

by the weight of your gaze,  

until I am no longer *me*,  

but something better,  

something whole,  

something that exists only in the curve of your palm  

and the space between your words.

I wish to be seen,  

seen in that way only you can—  

that piercing gaze that strips away the masks,  

the defenses,  

the walls I’ve spent a lifetime building.  

I want to be raw,  

to be vulnerable,  

to feel that burn of exposure,  

because in that burn, I find my truth.  

I find that I am not strong,  

not in the way the world demands.  

I find that strength comes in the *giving*,  

in the submission,  

in the act of trusting you to take what I cannot hold.

I call out for it,  

that space where I am no longer burdened  

by the weight of my choices,  

my fears,  

my endless, aching need to control.  

I call out for the loss,  

for the sweet, sinking feeling of being taken,  

of being claimed,  

of being held so tightly that the world falls away  

and all that’s left is the throb,  

the pulse,  

the rhythm of submission beating in my blood.

I wish to be lost,  

completely and utterly lost  

in the depths of your will,  

where I am nothing,  

and yet, in that nothingness, I find everything.  

I find peace.  

I find freedom.  

I find *you*.

Did you know if you block someone you can still send them mail... they just can't reply... soooo if you feel

ghosted maybe check your blocks... 

I dance through mist where moonlight drapes the briar,

My wings dew-laced, my breath a lilac sigh.

With every step I stoke the old desire

To kneel where moss is thick, and let him tie.

The thrushes know, and trill my aching plea,

A collar woven out of dusk and vine.

To wear his mark, to bend with grace and glee

Such rites are roots in soul and flesh, so divine.

I sang him shapes beneath the willow’s croon,

My thighs all slick with sap and summer’s crave.

Let him come swift, my lord of dusk or moon

To take the leash I offer, trembling, brave.

No shame in chains when hearts are dark and true,

I bloom beneath the hand I beckon to.