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She tells me violence rules me.
I tell her she is wrong.
I rub ruined finger joints as I do so.

She tells me I am a violent man.
I tell her I only fought to defend myself.
That what I did was not wrong.

She tells me I am dangerous.
That she can see it in my eyes.
I ask her how?
For I am crying.

I ask her about her lover.
Why she did not tell me of him.
She says nothing.

I tell her I struggled with her moods.
With her unexplained absences.
I tell her I loved her.

I explain that telling me over the phone
was the actions of a true coward.
That when she swore she would not abuse my trust
she lied.

She tells me that I am violent.
That she knows I punched a door.
That I broke a knuckle.

I tell her that she betrayed my love and my trust.
That I punched the door in frustration.
Better a door than a person.

I tell her that I loved her.
I ask her why she betrayed my love.
My trust.

I tell her of the times we spent together.
Of how I trusted her with my inner dark.
That she broke her word to me.

I explain how frustrated I feel at her lack of answers.
At her lies.
That she owes me answers.
And that answers there are none.


Sometimes Pain = Pleasure

Hard, this year has been
Almost done, almost
The end in sight

And now I am falling apart
I have no business falling apart now
Not when it’s all finally coming together
but I am

Keeping the pieces
shattered and broken together
Struggling up from my knees
time and time again
Wondering how I got there

Pieces finally falling into place
Hard work paying off
A deep breath and a sigh of relief
Followed by a hollow hole

Loneliness, sadness, betrayal, heartache
I am so tired…

All I want is release
to be dowsed in pain
My body on fire
Pain so fierce all else slips away
Lite from the outside inward

The white silence
such a gift offers
that washes through
And leaves me in quiet solitude
afloat and untouchable


Life is taking control. I don’t like it. I’m thinking of a master plan to be rich, therefore we don’t need to work much, which gives us more time to each other.
I lay here next to Daddy, listening to his snores. I know he’s exhausted. I’m not. I can’t sleep. I wish he would take me, here and now. I fear waking him up. He works so hard. I want him to sleep as much as he can, but I’m selfish. My natural being is selfish. I want to wake Him. Taste Him. Give my body the release it’s craving, but I control myself. He needs His sleep. So I will be patient. Sweet dreams Daddy.

Love: An addiction.

Everyone of us has had our experience(s) with love so there is no need to say about the positive aspects of it like the world seems a whole lot beautiful, we begin to look lives from a complete new angle, we do things that we never imagined we would have done, we become crazy and hopelessly in love and that feeling is amazing but short lived and it is not long that we finally come back to reality.

What happens after love, after it is over, the two people who meant the world to each other are drifted apart into their own separate lives, there is pain, there is guilt, there is anger and we just look to take it out on someone or in many cases ourselves. The time is spent in loneliness, in nostalgia wondering about the feelings and whether or not any promise that the other person made was true or it was just out of compassion, every word that we remember feels like a lie, every feeling was a lie, we think and maybe it was , maybe we were stupid, idiot to let ourselves be overwhelmed with such a feeling, this is how we console ourselves.

We are in pain and want to know how the other person is, if he/she is happy then it hurts all the more because they moved on and we did not, and we begin hurting ourselves all the more.

Is this how we expected such an amazing feeling to end, to curl in our bed with the lights switched off wondering where did it go wrong, whose fault was it, was it mine ? The same question we keep on repeating to ourselves to find no answer and that ultimately leads to a point where we began to feel pity, sorry for ourselves as to how we ruined our lives for such a person who never cared, for whom it was all just fun, the feelings were never real and then we began to repent the person, we want to hurt them for what they did to us.

How the feelings have changed, one day we were determined to do everything to make that person happy and kick the ass of the person who would hurt them even a bit but now we are thinking about hurting that same person, what an irony it is.

Some of us at this point of time realize that the only way to get over such a feeling is to get help from someone and we look forward to family and friends, people who are always there, we begun to socialize with them all the more instead of being a loner in our room and if we have great friends then it is just a matter of time that we are over our love but for those who don’t have friends are left stranded in middle of the life’s journey as there is no one to tell her what she should do and her mind is so messed up to make her own decision, the only person that she could freely talk to is gone leaving her in her own misery.

The space in between your ribcage

I want to be inside of it

I want to possess you

Like a wild spirit

Like a demon

Overtake you

Own you

I want your words

To be only the ones

I make you need to say

like a piece of property I rule

your flesh and blood and sinew

the total of your being in total submission

your need for me to be like your need to breathe

given and taken wholly and with no apprehension

overtake dark places you hold most close

every most intimate part in every way

are those I want to infect

to be your permanent

incurable disease


all mine

I don’t want someone who likes every little thing that I like. It’s through diversity of opinion that interest emerges, and if we share the same opinion on everything, what’s there to talk about? Besides, I like a challenge, I like needing to argue my case, why I like something, and slowly bringing you around, showing you the merits of what before you thought was stupid or pointless before.

But the thing I demand, no, require, is that you love music. Not the music that I love (lord knows that would be difficult as all hell), but just music as it is. The genre, the medium, the form. That you find melodies and chord progressions to be as emotionally powerful as the best film, or the most eloquent novel. That you care about music, and have invested yourself in it. That you don’t just listen to it when you go to the clubs, but instead find yourself packing your headphones the very first thing when you’re taking a trip.

That when someone asks that old ‘blind or deaf?’ chestnut, you actually have to think about it, more than almost anyone else, because the thought of being denied those beautiful sounds is almost worth being deprived of all those beautiful sights. That’s the level of music love I need, because that’s how much I care, and I don’t think I can understand someone who doesn’t have a treble clef etched onto their heart.

Is that so much to ask?


666 ways to say I’m sorry

Now that I’m finished with my last post I have to hand write a specific sentence 666 times before I can go to sleep. It may seem medieval and chauvinistic to many people but for Us this is what We need from one another. Without His guidance and discipline I would be completley lost. He keeps me focused and provides. Our lives with a wonderful sense of yin and yang.

What Makes a Daddy?

Daddy is a Sadist. He’s dominant by inclination and doesn’t need the paraphernalia of “the Lifestyle” to make me want to submit… but He definitely does make me WANT to submit. He compels me to be a “good girl” for Him.

He is good at setting a scene and is skilled with the emotional and psychological, as well as physical, aspects of power-exchange. He understands what being “little” means to me and drives me to be the good girl he wants. He often finds Himself in a father-figure role whether that is with me, coworkers, peers, etc. He is “Daddy” in word and in deed.

Daddy knows I need boundaries and that I love punishment and hurt coming from someone I trust and respect…  He knows pain is not a bad thing to me and He dishes it out with equal amounts of sincere affection and caring… He makes me ache physically and with longing. I yearn for Him, but He isn’t afraid to tell me, “no”.

Daddy is my sexual discovery arnd obsession. Despite all my previous experience, Daddy knows I am completely innocent. I know too. Daddy takes my hand, directs and teaches me. All my lessons are how to please Daddy. How to submit. How to be his good little girl.

Daddy’s arms are my safe place and we have a private world together in which I can be who I am. Sometimes that’s needy or obsessive, strong or silly. Daddy knows, understands, and I can be my little self in our private world. Daddy is my desire. I adore him, I trust him, I admire him but above all I love Him and He needs me to feel these things. He likes that i need Him. He needs me too. Today Daddy’s girl has disappointed Him and He has decided my punishment was to wake up and write exactly what His job as a Daddy is. In summary His job is to love me, guide
me andg He knows what is best for Us.

Daddy knows what is best. For both of us.

No more bullshit.

You had asked me why I want to be with You and said that whatever the reasons are they should be strong and sometimes selfish.

I am with You because I love You; so much, although my actions haven’t demonstrated that. I like being with You. When We aren’t battling crisis’ witch isn’t often, and I’m when I’m not being a bitch, also not often. We work well together. We make each other laugh. You make me laugh and You genuinely get my sense of humor. It’s easy to talk with You, although as of late while riddled with guilt it’s been tough for me. I feel protected with You, cared for and loved.

I know this doesn’t mean shit right now, because my word is shit right now, but I have always loved You. The spark may have been stomped out of Our relationship, but in my core I love You. Which is what makes what I’ve done so horrible. Revenge for something I knew little to nothing about hardly proves how much I love You.

What I did had nothing to do with love. It has everything to do with being selfish. With being lonely. With being angry. With being sad and depressed. With jealousy. And with feeling trapped. I wanted to hurt You and fate presented me with an ample opportunity to do so with someone You loathe.

I know i should have come completely clean with You after you found the recent messages on my phone. And my excuses on why i didn’t are irrelevant and hurtful.

I also should have confessed to You about the relationship with him and how it had really become more emotional than physical. You are right, I down-played it from the get go. I was afraid. Afraid You would never want to be with me again. Afraid You would think i really loved this person. Afraid You’d think I wanted to be with this person. At this moment in time, I don’t wholly know what i felt for him or why. I know i felt infatuated. I know I felt captivated. I know I felt excited.

I cannot recall each and every phone call and text, every interaction that me and him have had, I will admit most of them involve some form of sex; sexting, talking about trying something but many of them are simply about business. Please remember me and him do have a business relationship. At this moment, I don’t know how I could of let a complete stranger come inbetween Us like I did. All I can remember is feeling compelled to do it and wanting to just ruin myself, ruin You and ruin Us. I wanted You to hurt as much as I did. Things had gotten so overwhelming and I actually believed I was useless. That because of her You didn’t love me. So I allowed myself to engage in that contemptible behavior.

I have managed to remember a couple of things, which i’ve told You. About him wanting to buy a house. About asking me to visit. About him wanting to visit. And about the having to choose between the two of you.

Which leads me to my cellphone and your need to recover the deleted messages. What I am most afraid about in those messages to him is what I can’t remember. I’m afraid of what I may have said. If i told him to come visit. If i said, yeah i wanna keeping have sex with You. And if i told him that i want him and not You.

I don’t recall saying these things and I hope to God with all of my might that I didn’t. If we discover on the phone that I did say those things, I am so incredibly sorry I said them my love. I know You don’t deserve this. And I know I’ve hurt You so much, the pain You are in is indescribable.

And i know You need to me tell You everything that I can remember. As we’ve briefly talked about before, I think I severely ‘broke’ when We were packing up the house at the end of June 2012. With the intense needling from my mother and it became too much for me to handle.

When you left in July felt like I was so alone. I was alone. Completely. No You, no kids, no house, no friends and unfortunately the incessant verbal rail from my mother continued, and then You called me and told me We were through, ad nauseam. Now when You asked me questions regarding this period, I told you a half truth about him and what happened. The half-truth I told You was correct. He started it. At first I thought it was a joke. But after a few days of the back and forth and his familiarity, I began to feel comfortable with him. It wasn’t at the same level as A, but I thought I felt something that in reality wasn’t there. And in retrospect, from the bits I remember, it is offensive and disrepectful to You. I just felt so alone and lost during that time span and I needed to feel loved and wante. I know that sounds so incredibly childish and i am so fiercely ashamed that I behaved that way.

So my panic yesterday over the phone message recovery is two-fold. The half-truth i told You, about not knowing what I had texted him, but also the texting with A.

I know in telling You this you are horrified, repulsed and sickened. But I want to be completely honest with You and hold NOTHING back. Which is why I am giving You my phone to scan before You leave to look for those deleted messages.

I understand if this is the straw which breaks the camel’s back. And I will understand if You toss me out on my ass without blinking an eye. I hope I earn the privilege to spend the rest of my life with You.

You deserve to know about all the information. About the betrayal. About all the lies. I am so sorry for EVERYTHING. I LOVE YOU so much and I hope we can recover from this. You never did anything to deserve and warrant ANY of this. And for the rest of my life i will strive to make You happy and to be a whole and honest person. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! and I am soooooo Sorry.