Clear thought is lost in a whirlwind today,
Endless tasks overtaken by time.
As the day spins around me I feel it settle in,
A craving I’ve come to define.
The hunger to settle into that place,
The spot which I now known as mine.

Please allow me to know this place again,
Help me silence the noise in my mind.
Make the threats around me feel smaller,
And allow the knots in my chest to unwind.
Cause time itself to stay at a standstill,
Measured only in gasps and sighs.
As I seek to give you all that I am,
In this spot which I now know as mine.

Take from me all that you desire to take,
As in giving I am refined,
And in your taking I am in turn fulfilled,
An exchange built by nature’s design.
I cannot ask for more than this,
The touch of your hand, your taste, your kiss,
These are my guides to a state of pure bliss,
In this spot which I now know as mine.

Grace

9/7/2021

I crave the heady aroma,
Of my submission on your skin.
That delicious sticky fragrance,
I can taste by breathing in.
 
The sensation of your hands upon me,
Without any sign of giving in.
The audible gasps and sighs,
That continue to escape my lips.
Pouring out like a raging sea,
From somewhere very deep within.
 
My cries for you,
Can’t you hear them?
Yes, primal and hungry they growl.
But not from any physical place,
Yet from deep within my soul, they howl.
 
Beat me, use me, and free me,
I am made putty in your hands.
Allowing you to freely mold me,
As your every desire demands.
 
Silence the noise I beg you please,
The chaos in my mind.
Help me discover this refuge my peace,
As my place at your feet find.

4/28/2021

We’ve talked about these things before, my Dada and I. I’ve told him I love rope and ******* and we were both excited to start this journey together but still had butterflies in my stomach, not knowing what our evening would entail. As he bound my wrists and reached for our newest addition a leather-bound *******, the butterflies in my stomach began to flutter but my curiosity outweighed my fears. As the gag settled into its place in my mouth, I tested the texture and give of the ball with my tongue and as I worked out the fact that I could breathe around it my mind was immediately at ease. The shift in my head space was so obvious it was almost an audible sigh as I slipped into the most submissive state I had ever experienced. He laid me back on the bed and bound my hands above my head; and there I laid, at his mercy. So this is where we would begin our journey.
And then he touched me. His hands caressed my *******, then pinched and tugged on my ******* and I soon found myself squirming and whimpering for more. In a moment the sensation exploded as he sharply twisted them both, drawing an involuntary cry from my lips followed by the realization that the gag would provide the outlet I needed. I could scream, cry out, or do whatever came without fear that one of the neighbors would hear. That realization brought with it so much freedom and I embraced every sensation that he offered to me, just absorbing it like a sponge and I was free to respond without filters. As his hands moved over my body each caress became another note, as one by one we weaved them together as to compose an immersive musical interlude with the sensations he provided me intermingled with the sounds I would make in response.

When he finally reached my **** my body was on high alert and I was fighting the urge to explode. I struggled to make him understand how badly I needed it, how much I wanted to *** for him. In answer to my muffled pleas he pulled his hand away and I almost crumbled as he began to caress my body once again, leaving my senses humming and the feeling waned even if only a little away from the edge of release. The moment that he began stroking his fingers in and out of my ***** I almost immediately became unglued at the seams, then when he began thrusting harder it was all I could do to not ***. The moment of my undoing was when I felt his hand around my throat. I cried out and moaned through the gag begging for the relief my body craved and finally he allowed it. He could barely get beyond “Yes you may...” before my ***** was convulsing around his fingers coating them in my juices, screaming into the gag as the wave overtook me.

Immediately after he took my by the hand and guided me over his knee unsteady and trembling and began one of our familiar (and one of my favorite) rituals, a barehanded spanking. As he usually did, he started out with lighter strokes, progressively growing more intense. The wall of sub space hit me harder and stronger than I ever imagined that it could; not to mention much sooner than either of us expected it to. My mind was soaring away and embracing a level of sub space so intense that I had yet to experience up until that date. It was such a delicious feeling.

Once he felt my *** was sufficiently tender, he laid me back onto the bed and sheets brought with them the sting as my *** brushed against the normally comforting fabric. He laid down between my thighs and brought his mouth to my center, kissing and licking my lips then teasing my **** and making love to my quivering *****. My body trembled as I absorbed his tongue's caresses, the urge to *** becoming stronger. I could no longer contain myself and began rocking my hips against his mouth, whimpering until I couldn’t fight the urge anymore but thankfully he gave an Mmmhmm telling me that it was okay and my ***** exploded in his mouth, ******* so hard and crying out openly against the gag as the urge came again even stronger. He didn’t make me wait, thank goodness and he pushed me to *** again and again.

The moment he pulled away it was like my whole body took a deep breath but I immediately craved his touch again and I wasn’t disappointed. I felt his hand wet with **** caressing my *****, and I knew what was to come. He began to slowly work his fingers into my ***** first one, then two, then three….that in itself was tight and I loved how his fingers filled me. He massaged my ****** which feels strange and amazing all at the same time and another wave overtook me, then I was soaking his hand again. And then he began working the 4th finger in, and the feeling of my ***** stretching to take his hand was so ******* intense I didn’t think I could handle more sensation so when he held a small vibe against my **** I immediately came for him. He was able to get his fingers in past the last knuckles which is both a very big accomplishment and a euphoric moment; I felt so very full. I thought I was at my max…I thought. My mind was floating and my body was beyond doing much else than just taking him in and ******* over and over.

And then he added his thumb. I didn’t think I could take it all, and I came over and over without any ability to stop it or even control it at all-hell that's to say I'd wanted to stop if I could! After he’d pushed as far as I could take his hand, he pulled his hand away and thrusts ******* back into my *****. My senses were on high alert and another wave came. When I felt his finger pressing against the tightness of my ***, my body could not even resist. The only thing I knew was the next wave…and the next…and the next as I came again and again for my Dada. I was to the point of exhaustion, my mind in a place of what we refer to as full stop sub space and he could see that I had little more in me to give. So naturally he made me *** one last time, a good hard *** and he allowed me to just lay and float.
He laid close to me, allowing me to feel the warmth of his body against mine as he caressed my hair and whispered some of my favorite words into my ear as I drifted into sleep.

“Good girl.”

Sitting across the table from you my love I was going to simple text you “I Love You” when I realized that there is so much more to it, so this writing was born.

I love you
I need you
I want you
I crave you
To smell you
To see you
To taste you
To touch you
To hear you laugh
To feel your body respond to mine
As you make me moan
Touching me
Tasting me
Watching me
Inhaling me
Craving me
Wanting me
Needing me
And, loving me

As we discover new and amazing heights in our relationship from all sides, I love you.

11/09/2017

Once there was a monster,
Now more than 11 years ago.
They stole from me a priceless treasure,
And left me struggling to cope.

Much like monsters in nursery closets,
In children’s nightmares and beneath their beds.
But much worse than imaginary threats,
Are living, breathing dangers instead.

Terrors who have no respect,
For safe words and boundaries.
Those who lurk in darkness waiting to pounce,
And that night, their prey was me.

For so long I tried to pray it away,
With a plastic smile on my face.
Spouting all the right answers
I knew were expected
Not letting them see my pain.

I thought their violation defined me,
That it left me broken and numb.
I beat myself for years internally,
Because I thought I’d been weak,
Letting myself be so dumb.

But now I finally see it,
I’m starting to understand.
Their carnality only speaks for them
They don't define me, only I can.

And although I’m not hateful, I’m angry
And for that I am justified.
But I’m relieved to uncover a different perspective,
In that I won’t say that night I died.
But rather that night taught me something,
A lesson I’ll never forget.
I am truly a survivor,

A title that deserves respect.

Grace
8/19/2016

Take me to the darkness,
The place I once so feared.
Guide me as you push me further,
Until it's only your voice I can hear.
This silence where I wouldn't dare venture,
Without having you near.
But with you my protector, my Dom;
I know there is nothing to fear.

Help bring the chaos to order,
Silence the storm in my mind.
Remind me that my body is yours,
Bring peace only your hands provide.
Drive me to my limits,
Your push on them ever so slight.
Give me freedom through pleasure and pain,
To scream, moan, or even to cry.

Forcing my mind to release its hold,
Surrendering to your resonant control.
Until it all stops and at last I behold,
You've taken me to the darkness.

Then can completely let go,
And you hold me close to you as I float
Reveling in sub space, that glow.
Having finally conquered the darkness.

Thank you Dada, for helping me conquer the darkness. I love you with my everything.

Grace
8/19/2016

Touch me, if you please
Use your fingers and let me hear you speak.
As they emphasize your unspoken words to me,
Those of tender or lustful need.

Touch me when I’m angry,
When I seem to shelter myself in steel.
Touch me when I’m struggling,
And I’m unsure what I feel.
Touch me when you’re feeling playful,
And you thrive on my giggles and squeals.
Just touch me, if you please,
And I only pray that you will.

Touch me when my body is in pain,
Telling me that you’re still there.
Touch me to bring my mind back with you,
When I wake shaking from nightmares.

Touch me when you desire me
When your hunger for me is so strong.
When the skin on your very hands tingle,
Knowing that it won’t be long,
Until our bodies will once again mingle
And we are only one flesh.
Lost in only one another
All other worries laid to rest.

Touch me when you need me,
To draw upon my strength.
To feel that like you, I’m invested,
With you for a time without measurable length.

Although I feel I may not offer you much,
I pray that you find the same comfort in my touch.
Relying on me as I do with you,
Seeking only the next moment when you choose
To once again grace my skin with your touch
Regardless of its purpose,
The very moment I crave and just,
Lay practically begging for any small measure
Of the antidote you offer for my troubles,
Your love, your lust, your touch.

Grace
01/28/16

As a matter of forethought, today marks what would my wedding anniversary with my ex-husband. Six years it would have been today. We have quite a story to tell but sparing the details of our demise, I felt this day warranted something said. And so this is my goodbye to him, what would have been, and in the same vein; what has been as well:

Part of me felt I had so much to say,
So many grandiose words to fill the page.
Instead I find that all I care to say,
Is nothing more than a simple good-bye.

I’d like to say thank you,
For teaching me so much.
Regardless of what your intentions were,
You’ve shown me more than enough.

You convinced me that I was dependent,
That I could nothing on my own.
When in truth the last two years I’ve spent,
Discovering the independence I had all along.

In so many words you labeled me
As someone of lesser value than you,
But now I’m learning to see
The depth of that untruth.

I begged you to truly need me,
Not to regard me as an accessory
Yet you never seemed to understand
How much your disregard damaged me.

But I’m past the point of begging,
Past the point of walking away.
I’ve realized now the fulfillment that comes
When someone truly wants you to stay.

So on this anniversary of what was previously a happy day,
The starting point of forever we said
I close this chapter of you and me, in the simplest of ways
As the end of the beginning
And today my final words to you will be read.
Everything left unspoken, will finally be loosed on the page
Then through the flames they will come to an end
And with that my final goodbye to the now ex-husband
That I once called my best friend.

Grace
01/16/2016

I came to Him tonight literally crumbling. I felt as though every part of my essence trembled with the weight of my anxiety, almost as though my very being would be crushed beneath it. My eyes even struggled to maintain contact with His for fear that the **** inside of me would break and I wouldn’t be able to contain it. I needed my Dada, but not for giggles or cuddles or fun and games. I couldn’t put my need into words, the memories I struggled against were far too angry and traumatizing to even allow my little close to them. I needed my Dom.

True to form He didn’t force me to try to form the words to explain my distress. He simply held me tightly, and for those moments it time it felt as if His arms were the only thing holding me together.

I knew to expect big girl time, as we had defined that was the plan for the evening already. He knew the battle raging in my head and He had precisely the cure in mind. Full stop, lights off, shut it down, nobody’s home, sub space. For which I was simultaneously terrified and extremely grateful. My fears were not of Him of course, but of the reactions and emotions I knew His touch would pull out of me. Pushing me to a place of raw expression, with no filters, just pure undiluted release. Where my screams, cries, tears, and moans would be exhausted and soon silenced along with the struggle in my mind.

But before that, as I expected He would, He decided that we would need to eat. I was grateful He understood how deeply my mind was sinking and an all-out meal wasn’t required. Just a light snack, He said. But even with that my mind fought to stay present, every moment seeming to sink further away from the bed where we sat to eat.

Then in one of the most intimate displays of tenderness I can hardly describe, He fed me. Similar to how He would feed my little but not in the same way. He helped me with each bite, offering a silent affirmation with a simple stroke of His hand on my shoulder as I took it. I can’t put into words the depth of what that simple of act meant.

Once our pseudo meal was complete we moved on toward our plans for the evening. I’d already voiced my concern, that I had no idea what to expect from myself; no gauge with which to measure how I would react. With this in mind we moved forward, carefully at first and then with more intensity further on.

I soon found His touch and while at first it required much more effort than I’m used to in order to remain focused on it, He very quickly reminded me that both my body and mind are His. Not far into the motions He pulled me over His lap into a position I’ve come to know well and began to spank me, only this time was different. We explore both worlds of pleasure and pain within balance but this was not our standard exercise. The pace was relentless and I soon found myself grappling with the **** again, trying to keep the waters at bay. But He knew this as well, and the strikes continued as the tears began to flow. They brought with them a wave of emotion I hadn’t allowed myself to experience and with it as well a level of release that left my entire body weak. But with the weakness was also a sense of emptiness that I reveled in. No longer did I have the knots in my stomach that come with trying keep the plastic smile on my face.

With that we continued on into big girl time which sparing the details, was a level more intense than that of which I’ve experienced as of yet. The silence in my mind was pure bliss and I snuggled up with my Dada, my Dom and fell into complete rest.

I woke up a few hours later with the urge to put this into words for Him and also to acknowledge it here as well. I’m so grateful for Him, He is my strength when I cannot bear the weight and that is far and away more priceless than any other Christmas gift one could ask for.

Grace
12/19/15

To understand that *** is not a primary priority in our relationship means more than I can even say. To have a Dada who focuses so much more on making sure my little is whole and happy before anything else is done makes me truly feel like you see me and what Gracie needs.

Don’t get me wrong big girl time is amazing when we have it. You make my body sing for you and you quiet my mind until nothing else exists there but you. Your hands on my body remind me that I am ****, desired, and very ****** – and that those needs are not to be forgotten. They’re just not the priority. I wrote something for you that has been on my mind ever since you posted that writing 10 days ago. I hope it helps you really hear how much it means to me.

It’s ALL about Priorities

I love that your priority is Gracie, your focus on her is entirely unapologetic and that means the world to me.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is her happiness. Life itself has many distractions and I know that devoting so much time me (to her) is not always the easiest path. But the fact that you do, even when it means 36+ hours on Skype most of which just “being” which you understand is just as important to me as playing and talking and laughing, makes me feel like the most important person in the whole wide world.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is keeping her healthy. That you take care of me when I forget or refuse to take care of myself. The simplest things like asking what or even if I’ve eaten when you know what my response will be shows me how much you care about the smallest of things in my day.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is helping me find peace when I’m floundering. Whether it be from nightmares or when I’m physically not feeling well, everything stops while you help me reach a calmer place in my head and that cannot be more important to me in that moment even if I won’t come out and say it. And that is one of the biggest expressions of love you could ever show me.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love spending big girl time with you, feeling my body submit to your touch and your voice as you make it sing for you. But it’s the peace your dominance brings to my mind (even if my head isn’t in a bad space) that is what I love most in that.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is meeting my need and you see how much I need your touch. To feel of your touch on my body, from the lightest of touches to the most intimate of places. I love the tender possession of your lips on mine or the taste of your skin as I bite your shoulder in ecstasy. I love the way you make me pant and whimper and sigh and then to feel it all come crashing down as you make me *** again and again into a state of pure ******* bliss. But what I take from those moments is the feeling of complete desire for me in every way. Your need for me without filters or guards is how I’m truly learning to see that I’m beautiful.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love it when you pull me over your knee and spank me Dada, just the thought gets definite reactions and makes me gasp and blush. That moment of when my mind clicks into a literal “sub” space, surrendering all of myself to you, and with the simple strike of your hand against my bare skin, you remind me that you’re there to take every piece…every part of me to help me find peace and put them back together again.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love the intensity of *** play with you Dada, something I haven’t so openly explored before. But I trust you with my every breath so I know that even the most intense of moments you’re there to keep me safe. And in that, I would give you any part of me without you ever needing to ask.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love feeling you taking every part of me, knowing that I want to know you in every way that one can possibly know another. Not just for the primal satisfaction which I love just as much, but for the sake of strengthening our bond. One that continually gets stronger with every touch, little or big.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love when the feeling of exhaustion as you continually use my body, beyond the point when I think it can go on. When my mind cries out that it can’t even while you show my body that it can until all is silent and nothing is there but you and I in the peace of the silent black space. Then I reach out and feel you take me close to your chest and remind me that you’re always there to keep me safe and secure.

That’s called priorities.

To the flutter of butterflies in my stomach and the squeal I have to quiet just when I see a message from you pop up on my phone.

That’s called priorities.

To know that I’d rather lay there in silence with you then go out with anyone else just at the risk of losing the smallest measure of time with you.
That’s called priorities.

To feel the sense of peace that quiets all of the chaos after you’ve listened to me whine, complain or just plain ***** about all that’s going on with me without word one of the mess that your day has been. That moment, that peace.

That’s called priorities.

To be able to be little with you with no boundaries, to be as little as I need to be and to trust that you’re there to be with me to protect me and play with me.

That’s called priorities.

Dada, you have taught me that a man’s priorities are evident through the actions that he takes and the choices that he makes and for the first time I truly feel like a priority instead of an accessory. And for that, the words “thank you” could never be enough.

Gracie
09/23/2015

The last year has been one of the hardest I thought I would ever face.
It has been filled with hard and fast decisions. The kinds that have ultimately challenged every pre-packaged expectation I had of what my life would be at that point.

I had reached a place in which I’d accepted stale familiarity as an alternative to the fear of the unknown. Where I hoped that if I could just keep my depression and frustration at bay I could endure for the sake of keeping things comfortable. Then I finally came to the realization that complacent and comfortable were not acceptable options.

I caught a glimpse of happiness when I truly discovered my little and everything finally clicked into place. Once I made that discovery all hope of keeping her in the shadows evaporated quickly, along with any notion of staying within the darkness.

So after making one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to within my adult life, I stepped out of that situation and began a journey over the last year that has brought me to a place of peace within myself that I can’t truly describe to anyone who has not yet experienced it. It’s a sense of freedom like I’ve ever known and one that I will not willingly give power over it away again.

Through every emotion, every struggle, every momentary doubt in my ability to do this on my own I can honestly say that I know that regardless of what comes; I can. It can be difficult at times but that doesn’t make it impossible.

That choice, that moment that I wrote about a year ago, was more worth it than I could have ever even dreamed. And I can proudly say that literally one year after escaping the darkness, I am at peace within the light. My little has never been more free, and I am one happy baby girl.

With sissies and friends who love and a Dada who thinks I’m the most awesome fairy pwincess in da whole wide world (okay that might be stretching things giggles) I truly believe that this is what true happiness is.

Grace
09/22/2015

After getting the chance to visit with an old friend a little while back I have had these on my mind and a few nights ago I finally put them onto “paper” so to speak. After sharing a bit from them with a ***** of mine tonight while we spent some time learning more of each other’s back stories, I felt it appropriate to post them tonight:

I know that to many I’m still considered a baby for my age (my little not included). At 30 years old in just the last couple of years even, I have made some very meaningful strides in defining and refining my happy place both in and outside of the lifestyle. I function very strongly under the belief that “without the experiences that I’ve had, I would not be the person I am today” and those words ring ever truer with me now looking back.

I was raised within an extremely conservative home. One where Smurfs were demonic and Disney villains were not a reality until at least the age of ten. KSBJ was the only radio station that existed and Halloween wasn’t actually happening if you turned your lights off and pretended you weren’t home when the “trick or treaters” came knocking.

I will pause here a moment and say that while I may not agree entirely with the methods under which I was raised I am truly honored to have the parents that I do. While her views are largely conservative, I love my mother to the ends of the world and I respect the fact that she was so invested and raised her children staying true to her convictions.

With that said, I have learned throughout my adult life a few lessons about the world and the people in it and as I love that the #7 is the number of completion, it is only fitting that there be seven of these as well.

1.) Cookie cutters are meant for kitchen drawers. There is no one universal mold and anyone in history who has believed that leaned a little bit more to the unstable side. (Does the name ****** ring a bell?) We need to learn to embrace and celebrate the differences among us that make us unique.

2.) To interact with someone outside of your normal circle doesn’t somehow taint you. Growing up, it was commonly modeled for me that to interact with anyone who fell outside of the expectation of what “acceptable people” were, would somehow taint who I was as “one of the good ones”. The reality is that if Jesus Christ himself ate with the tax collectors and murderers what makes you so high and mighty? So say good morning to the man with the scowl in the elevator – you don’t know how much he might need to know that someone sees him and cares. Give the extra $2 in your wallet to the homeless woman on the corner. That might be the only food she sees this week. So many of us function in a mindset of doubt, not acting at all for fear that we’re going to be misused or rejected. When the truth of the matter is that it’s not your responsibility to police how someone responds to your good will. Your moral obligation ends at the point when you’ve extended your hand to offer a gesture or help.

3.) Life is not fair to you simply because you believe it should be. No one “owes” you respect unless you earn it. You cannot expect vulnerability unless you are willing to lay yourself bare. You get what you put in and there is no bigger truth than that.

4.) Marriages/Relationships are not perfect, regardless of how good those involved are at portraying it that way. For the longest time I referred to those who would put on the “happy faces” and pretend as white picket fences. Until one day I realized that a white picket fence is only the “perfect” that everyone sees on the outside. The inside is cluttered, chaotic and real. Real relationships are hard, they require work from both sides in order to be successful. No relationship is one sided and those that are, do not last.

5.) People are above all, human. We are imperfect, emotional and flawed beings. We will disappoint you, frustrate you and ultimately choose the option which is the most self-serving. But at the same time we will love you, encourage you and tell you how much we can’t live without you. The strongest bonds are not the ones that make great accessories, they are the necessities you cannot live without.

6.) Listen more than you speak. Two ears, one mouth. Learn to hear what are others are saying before trying to interject with how they are wrong and you are right. Listen to the stories of those around you, it might help you to see that you and the people you are fighting so hard to be different from have more in common than you think. Never judge a book by its cover. Get to know the stories that make people who and how they are. The relationships that develop may surprise you.

7.) And lastly, don’t stay complacent simply for the fear of change. If you’ve reached a stale point in your life, career, relationship it’s time to do some soul searching. In the words of somewhere very dear to me, if you’re not happy where you are start taking steps to change it. Staying in a place of complacency will eventually fester into bitterness and resentment. Choose better for yourself, as all of your days on this planet are numbered. Spend them wisely. Love deeply, laugh freely, and live without regret.

Grace
07/30/2015

You read me like a your favorite book
Its pages though faded and torn,
Their creases familiar to the touch of your fingers
Its cover over time scuffed and worn.

But to you these marks as rather than flaws
Badges which have been dutifully earned
By the steady attention of your hands
My every habit or pattern you’ve learned.

Even when I feel as though you’re not watching
Your gaze is steadily on me,
Allowing me to socialize independently
While keeping me within the safety of your reach
With the ability to reach in and rescue me
Should ever the situation arise.

You pick me up as one does their favorite book,
With loving care in their touch,
Being mindful of those scars which have left their mark
Leaving be those places tender to me
And those you handle even more gingerly
Helping me to see, that I can trust your touch.

You read me like your favorite book,
Carefully studying my stories,
Reading deeply into the words,
Understanding my failures and glories.
But even as I fear you will
You never judge me, even still
You hold me tightly and kiss me until
I believe I’m still your favorite story.

And even as you read me again,
Same conversation, just a different day
You remind me in several different ways
That you treasure and protect me,
Very much in the same ways,
That one treats their favorite book.

Gracie
07/16/2015

After careful revision…here we go.

This was written in response to a journal post by another user, a rather delusional ex-Daddy who needs a little clarification on his facts. I utilized the reference name “Letter Writer” because I do not believe acknowledging him with attention would spotlight the accurate “*******” message I’m trying to relay here. It is long however it was important to me that I addressed each part of his *******, in essence closing this crazy chapter of my life. It is not required that you read it all the way through, however you are welcome to if you wish.

When I originally wrote this piece I was very flippant in my use of the Letter Writer’s name and for that I will apologize because while I do believe he should be called onto the carpet for his ****, my using his name was the same level of wrong as him using my name when he wrote the journals of his own laying out what he believed were my every “trespass” against him. Well my friend, or thankfully not even one I would qualify as more than “Somebody that I used to know”, there are a few truths that you seem to have forgotten so it appears you may need a refresher course. The reality is I don’t need to use your name, you know exactly who you are and although you shouldn’t even be able to see this I’m sure you will find your way to it. So without further ado, read on. For the sake of your privacy I’ll simply refer to you as Letter Writer. As you so carefully laid your insults to me into words onto the page for all of the Fet world to see, although they have somehow disappeared now. Pity.

To further explain, the original Letter Writer’s words will be in bold quotes as I do not claim them as my own, but they will help my “responses” make sense.

”Oh my dear Gracie, where shall I begin?”

Those were your words, or don’t you remember?
The only way I can respond to that is simply to defend her
The fact that both she and I are no longer yours,
Better yet, we weren’t yours to begin with.

Oh dear, bi-polar, (thank God in Heaven you are no longer my) Letter Writer…

You spin your words so carefully to shine your condemning spotlight on me,
Acting as if my absence from you, has left you in such grief.
Oh wait, I misunderstood then? You really don’t care you say?
That’s funny because your continual writings, your constant turn of phrase;
Which repeatedly speak directly to me, rings out with a different tune I’m afraid.

Oops, maybe you actually don’t see it? Well isn’t that a shame?
Well I’ll make it really simple for you and I’ll even respond in your own way.
I’ll even use the same condescending tone which your words always displayed.
Oh gee, I DO hope it relays:

”She used to say she loved me when I swept her off her feet”

That was before things changed between us
Then I was nothing more to you than your “treat”.
When all our “dynamic” meant to you,
Was simply another avenue to pursue
More numbers in your fan club or our Littles’ group;
Or let’s not forget the “loves” and “views”
Which seemed like such a priority to you.

One little thing I should remind you of, oh Letter Writer dear,
Is that group that you and your new Little now share?
What you both call “home”, is simply the group where
You and I played almost constantly,
A place that you specifically built for me.
Not that I’m looking to collect on that lease
But one thing I do wonder you see,
How does she feel to know she’s only following my lead?
Well regardless of her feelings it’s the truth that you seek,
Isn’t the taste of reality sweet?

”She used to say she loved me while she practiced her deceit”

Wow Letter Writer my dear, you’ve really got to learn to breathe,
You speak as if you were a dream,
A knight who swooped in to rescue me
When in all reality
You never really delivered on the whole “Daddy” thing,
Leaving us unbalanced, and forcing me to lead.
You’ve created this whole fantasy, which to you isn’t too far gone.
So rather than choose to beat this dead horse,
I think its best we just move on.

”She used to say she loved me and I thought it was a fact.”

I used to say I loved you and I’ll admit at one time it was true.
There was a season in our lives, (no matter how brief),
When I imagined my happiness would be with you.
However my education came later much to my relief,
Now I’ve discovered a real level of truth.
And I feel like it was you who offered deceit.

”She used to say she loved me just to get inside my head”

It’s hysterical to me that you say I played games
Just to get inside of your head.
Oh I don’t have to invite any others,
You have your own circus there instead.
Not my circus, sure as hell not my monkeys
That’s an issue your new “Little” gets to address.
It’s like this delusional place where you’re blinded
Against the plainest of realities
In failing to see the truth behind my words
Of exactly what you were to me.
No worries, read on, and you will begin to see.

”She used to say she loved me when we Skyped all through the night.”
”She used to say she loved me to pretend that all was right.”

Regardless of what you choose to believe
I trusted you with a lot at one time.
Then you showed me my trust had been misplaced,
And instead of the “Daddy” you promised I faced
Daily struggles to settle the Little you claimed
Never existed all along.
Anyone who knows you, well enough in fact, can clearly see
That within you can be found either a split personality,
Or simply a Little refusing to accept or believe,
Where it is that they truly belong.

So let’s keep going you know I have to make sure,
To address each of your ramblings just to ensure
That clarity is given, as it seems that you have endured
So many hardships that its hard to count.

”She told me that she loved me when I tucked her into bed.”

How funny of you to mention tucking me into bed.
You mean that lovely nightly routine when you looked at me and said,
“You’ve got what you need, now make yourself sleep.”
So let me just say wow, that’s truly unique
Your heartfelt delivery really cuts a girl deep.
As our bedtime routine instead of offering release,
Died rather slowly, until I’d rather fake sleep
Than pretend it even remotely worked,
Which would be one hell of a joke indeed.

I really hope that you’ve improved upon that, although not for my sake at all.
My concern is for the Little you “Daddy”,
Who I’d think must have a pretty strong resolve.
To be so accepting of whatever charm you’ve sold
Hell in her mind, you must **** gold
That she would be willing to reach into her very own soul
To create her own imaginary Daddy to behold
To find her own peace for rest.

”She told me that she loved me when I gave her pants and sighs.”

So on we go, moving forward yet again
To read of the pants and sighs.
Because after all the only thing a relationship needs
Is *** and more ***, didn’t you realize?
Oh wait, haven’t you heard? Maybe you haven’t after all,
There are actually relationships that do invest their all
Into other facets of life, not just the physical.
As if it were the only connection,
Where there is no need for the emotional.
Because let’s both be honest, that’s what you wanted if you’ll recall.
There are serious concerns for your health.
Not only speaking physically but I address also your emotional need
This obvious drive for you to speed, barreling into everything head first.

”She used to say she loved me after ******* other guys.”

So now let’s speak briefly of the “other guy”,
Whom you so righteously point out.
That point is completely irrelevant to me,
As I was so privileged to recently read
That from your ex-wife you are finally freed.
After what, 4 years, your post read?
Funny to me that when asked point blank how much time had passed
Since your divorce had been gone,
You looked directly at me and said, “It’s been three years since it was done.”
Wow! The courts must really be struggling
To clear out the back-up you see.
If it was finalized three whole years ago,
Yet you were only just now freed.
So now who offers deceit, Letter Writer?
Admittedly it’s not too far for your reach.

It’s just hilarious to me,
How you preach ever so righteously
When you were so willing to fly to **** me
All the while spewing your own lies, don’t you see
The irony of it all?
Yes when we met I was married it’s true.
A fact which I did not hide from you.
At least I was honest about what we were,
Why could you not offer the same?
You were the other guy for a short sum of days,
Until you no longer met the grade
And then suddenly it was all on me to pay
Your fun having ended, your hand having been played.
And now our game has come to an end.

How easy for you to step back and play stupid
When you were between those sheets with me, lucid
All in all, very well present in that moment
Until now, when you’ve conveniently forgotten, how appropriate.
Whatever’s said now, the deed was then done.
So grow a pair, dear Letter Writer, man up and move on.

”She used to say she loved me while she lied to her best friend.”

Oh yes, and about the best friend that you speak of?
Don’t continue to be so naïve.
She was involved in this more than you say,
However this isn’t a game that we’ll play
As she and I have re-bonded, recovering our place
And we’ve left our trash on the curb.

So let me pause for a question, oh thorough and calculating Dom.
For someone who claimed to be monitoring me,
Who has such knowledge, access to technology
Let’s speak about this instance of when I allegedly did cheat.
How is it that of this mishap you were so unaware, until I inadvertently shared?
It seems to be, oh no possibility there,
Another lie did my sweet innocent Letter Writer bare?

Oh I’m grateful for your lessons, the ones you’ve taught me here.
If someone radiates crazy, it’s wisest to just steer clear.
You’ve demonstrated so clearly every one of those traits.
Which tell a girl, “Crazy lives here!”
You should have the license plates made.
Like e-mails to my parents,
Within months of when we did meet.
Confessing your undying love for me and your long term plans to retreat;
Uprooting yourself and moving to a new state,
To come and move in with me
All before my divorce was finalized,
Which you don’t talk about; oh gee.

Continuing on that thought, there is so much to lay out.
Let’s see, constant posts indirectly at me here on Fet,
Or the job you still find yourself without?
Oh wait no, you’re an entrepreneur now,
A leather business from what I hear!
Congratulations, that’s so exciting.
So let me ask you, how does it feel?
It’s eating me up, I must know!
The knowledge that your source of support
Is your Little’s savings account
Rather than an employable skill of your own.
Or you know, one thing is for sure,
Family is always good for a loan.

”She told me that she loved me while she had another guy.”

In the same vein, this new Daddy you’ve called out
Has taught me lessons as well, but they’re simply more about
What to expect from a Daddy, things I never got from you.
Not how to balance life with a switch or a little,
Which you demonstrated those how-to’s.
His traits illustrate Daddies a little can genuinely trust
And who gives a **** for my wellbeing too.
Beyond the point of being a toy for him to use.
Which I’ll say is fun, when the balance is there too.

I must admit, my favorite part to this whole tale
Is that you still have this need to prevail
So you must broadcast your lives in detail
Just to prove how happy you are.
Well in that I say good luck to both of you
I can’t imagine how it must truly exhaust you two
However I can’t choose for you, to find happiness within yourselves.

With that, in one thing, I agree you speak truth.
Your words are stale and hollow, having lost their value
Funny though it seems your past haunts you still
As you can’t seem to muster the strength or the will
To leave all the ******* behind even still
I’ll bet you’re already planning a response.
However I’ve said my peace, no more duels, I’m done.

In reality I’ve found where my puzzle piece fits,
Where I am most happy, in the midst of all of this.
I hope you reach for your Little, not dismiss
Finding solace in what you claim to have in line
And within that solace learn to leave the past where it belongs, behind.

Grace
07/07/2015

To the ******* who tried to out me - I forgive you.
To the **** who thinks your cheap shots mean **** to me – I forgive you.
To the ex-husband who tried to berate me – I forgive you.
To the person I once called my friend, but no longer– I forgive you.
To the ones who would judge me by the words of others – I forgive you.
To the faceless cowards who would send insults only to be hurtful – I forgive you.
To the ******* that kidnapped, beat, and ***** me – I forgive you.
To the family who still accepts me regardless of what they’ve heard – I honor you.
To the friends who have stuck beside me – I thank you
To the ***** who has chosen that our friendship is worth it – I treasure you
And to the Daddy who spends his almost every waking moment making sure I know just how priceless, treasured, and adored I am – I love you.

I am truly learning that to dwell on the hurtful words of those who care nothing for you means giving them more power and position in your life than they are worth. Forgiveness is the most powerful weapon you can wield.

Grace
06/20/15

•A Daddy is the grown up within the dynamic, not the other way around. He doesn’t create the situation which forces his Little to take the lead. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy offers encouragement and reassurances to his Little to help build her up, not tear her down. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy is a grounding safe place for his Little, he doesn’t create or add to the drama which she seeks refuge from. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy is the protector and guardian for his Little, he maintains her safety not allowing others to hurt, harm, or wound her. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy gives correction to his Little when needed, but always in the end with the reminder that once punishment is over all is forgiven. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy gives praise and rewards to his Little over even the little things, but also uses those accolades with care so that they do not lose their value. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy nurtures all sides of his Little, big girl included. He encourages and facilitates opportunities for her to be both his Little and naughty big girl. Because that’s what Daddies do. (Non-****** dynamics notwithstanding.)

•A Daddy doesn’t have to broadcast his Little to know that she’s a sought after priceless treasure, he treats her as the light of his life, the apple of his eye, his **** *****, his undeterred submissive, and the best thing to him even if his eyes are the only ones to behold her. Because that’s what Daddies do. (Although some dynamics are okay with exhibition and if that’s for you, more power to you.)

•A Daddy sets guidelines for his Little and enforces those without her having to remind him in order to give her the structure that she needs. Because that’s what Daddies do.

•A Daddy is firm within his decisions, and does not allow every one to be swayed by the cute negotiations of his Little’s displays, (although every once in a while is okay. ;) Because that’s what Daddies do.

In all reality Daddies do a great number of things but my Dada is showing me more and more each and every day how those whom I previously referred to by Daddy or other such names, weren’t really living up to their titles. He is showing me the realities of how a Daddy is supposed to treat me within even the shortest of interactions with him.

There it is, I’ve said them,
The words are out there in print.
And now I’m fully committed,
In a place where they can’t be unsent.
I’ve wrestled with them for a while now,
Struggling to get them just right.
So they would tell you how grateful I am,
But that the fit we have just isn’t quite right.

My intent is not to hurt you,
Although it’s inevitable, the pain.
And knowing that I’m the cause of it,
Is what has caused me, until now, to refrain.
To refrain from even speaking the words,
Which I know would cause us both such pain.

I want us to find happiness,
And through that struggle comes tears.
That part is what’s to be expected,
With all that we’ve shared, our hopes and our fears.
Please know that to be spiteful is not me
I pray that in the end you find peace
Knowing that within this release
The healing can begin.

In this final moment,
The pain is too fresh for clear thought.
To be rational in our assessments,
And not to be impulsive by emotions left raw.
But this decision is ultimately for the best,
In the long run that is.
To know that Gracie will find what she needs,
And Papa Bear will meet also with his.
That thing that makes him happiest,
The peace more than even I can provide.
To reach that place, this pain is necessary
And I beg of you, please, not to completely hate me,
For being selfish for once in what Gracie needs,
And having to say Good-bye.

Grace
03/14/2015

I finally get it now,
I’m no longer afraid.
As I have finally removed my piece from the board
Refusing to continue in our game.

You thought you could manipulate me
To maintain my loyalty through fear
But what you don’t seem to realize is
I’m no longer afraid of you, my dear.

In the past I’ve had my moments,
Quite a few of them in fact
When I forced myself to walk on eggshells
To keep the illusion of peace intact.

Then one day I finally came to realize
That this ride would never end
And even if I refused to see the demise
There’s only so far one can bend.

So I decided that I’d reached my limit,
That it was time to walk away,
But instead of maintaining some dignity
You continually make cheap shots at me
Somehow thinking this disproves that you’re weak
Yet apparently the opposite is truth.

In walking away I am stronger,
Finally recognizing my worth
In completely accepting myself for me
Without having to combat your hurtful words.

But they no longer hold any power over me
I bet that one hurts like a *****.
Until you find your own peace one day
Know that I’m no longer yours to berate
So now you must find somewhere else to play
Feel free to leave any time.

All in all our time is over
The moment for farewell has arrived
Feel free at any moment to locate the door
And don’t bother waving good-bye

Grace
11/11/2014

There it was, that moment
I just heard the crack
And with that final audible severing
There isn’t any going back.

I wanted to keep it peaceful
To not cause more unneeded pain
But instead of calm civility
You continue to antagonize me
Leading me into the undying belief
That I was the root all along.

I am not claiming to be perfect
When just the opposite is true
But I’ve never been so vindictive
As to go out of my way to hurt you.

I guess I couldn’t expect much more,
Your ego is so fragile after all.
But I’ve officially reached a level of done
That you’re comfort level isn’t my call.

Yours and my game has ended
The emotion of it far gone.
Until I stood here empty
Terrified that it would end me
Struggling ever so desperately
To maintain a modicum of peace.

But here I find fear vanishing
As a new emotion takes over now
Instead of fearful worrying
I have peace, now growing
Until I standing here knowing
That my success is up to me.

Failure is not guaranteed
Just because you are no longer here.
I am learning to release
My ever present fears.

In this moment I am stronger
Knowing that I’ll be okay
No longer fearful of what is to come
Welcoming instead, a new day.
Grace
09/09/14

That moment.

When it finally clicks and you realize that the reasons you’ve used for so long are no longer good enough to hold you there; in the place of indecision. When you look into the mirror and no longer even recognize your own weak excuses. Your motivations to stay are lacking real substance and the excuses lay deflated at your feet as you step over them toward the daylight.

That moment.

When even the stale threats which frightened you so much before the shift echo hollow in your ears and you hear them for what they were, words. Their empty promises offer little more and once you’ve gathered the courage to trample over them, you’re one step closer to peace.

That moment.

As you’ve stepped beyond that place having made your choice, and while you’re relieved you question yourself because the darkness seems to be so ominous. It shifts and grows around you, almost as if it bears life and a small voice whispers into your mind, “Go back.” Hissing that back means safety, security at the risk familiar complacency.

That moment.

When you continue to push until you feel as if you can no longer take the darkness. When your mind struggles in the chaos it creates as it begins to close in, yet still you push.

Then…that moment.

When you reach the daylight, the darkness dissolves in an instant and you can finally see around you. The hope of what the future will bring on your horizon and the peace of this singular moment, telling you that for all of the struggle…

This moment was worth it.

Grace
08/27/2014

There it was, I saw it
That silent flash of doubt.
I know you believe it (or me)
And again I’m left without,
Having been poured out.

Drained I’m searching desperately
Grasping at my sanity,
Watching ever so silently
For someone who understands.

You cannot smell the stench of their flesh,
You cannot feel the pain.
That sinking feeling, deep in your gut.
When you know they won’t show restraint.

To know that they’re feeling pleasure,
While you’re feeling pain,
To know that they must have planned this so well,
So that you couldn’t see their face.

My stomach twist in knots
Because I know somehow, someday.
We’ll cross paths again,
And not knowing I’ll walk away.
Then deep within you’ll know
That I don’t know your face.

Even after all that’s been,
I know that it’s still not over,
And beaten I give in
You win, You WIN.

There are so many voices crowding me;
Overpowering the only lone voice which I truly wish to hear.

Standing in the midst of these voices,
I beg for silence.
That place where I can find peace.
But even after every sound is gone,
His whisper is fading still,
Leaving me poured out and unfulfilled.

Weeping I collapse, begging for his return
But all around me darkness closes in.
Leaving me with no choice but to allow it to win.

-Marie
01/29/2007

I’ve never had such a struggle for words,
As I’ve had since I chose to speak out.
The silence has become almost my prison
Forced upon me, until I no longer know
What it is like to speak at all.

Sitting alone I have no idea where to start,
So repeatedly and regrettably I do the only thing that I know.
Allowing once again for the silence to embrace me.
To draw me in to a place where
Words mean pain, fear, and memories.

Thoughts that I no longer wish to remember.
I realize that I’ve remembered all that I know,
Without exception.
I’ve come to accept my silent defense,
Unwilling to feel the pain of anything.
But one question still remains:

Where do I go from here?

-Marie
02/08/2007

Tonight I don’t understand it,
I feel like I’m going insane.
Half of me is dying to be up there singing,
And the rest wants me to run in shame.
To hang my head in silence, and never sing again.

What is it that I’m losing?
My grip on reality?
In thinking that this God thing is nothing
But a pyramid, a scam, or a scheme.

Don’t I have a right to be angry?
If God gave me the emotion after all?
Then why do people constantly tell me
To shut up and suffer in silence, I’m appalled!

God seems nothing more to me.
Than a mean boy with a magnifying glass.
Pulling my legs off, smoldering my wings,
And leaving my dreams smoking piles of ash.

Everything I’ve known of God,
None of it’s coming through.
My car’s still broken, my body still hurts,
And my mind is still in turmoil over you!

I can’t seem to find myself
Somewhere amidst all of the shame.
If dying altogether is gain, then **** me!
Release me from my pain!
The bible, I don’t want it.
It no longer makes any sense.
The words are ancient and forgotten,
And they didn’t help me then.

Then, the night when I walked through hell,
And screamed into His deaf ears for help.
He disregarded me as if I were nothing,
Insignificant, unworthy of his effort or attention.

If I am in fact a princess,
A daughter of the most-high God.
Why didn’t he care enough to help me?
When I needed my Father the most.

My stomach twists into knots,
***** stings at my throat.
To know that such an omnipotent God,
Fell short, didn’t grab the rope, my lifeline and my hope.

God you have my best interest on Your heart,
You care like that, is that right?
Then where in heaven were You?
And God where are You now?

-Marie
06/08/2005

My frustrations are lost to me,
I don’t speak them for fear that they will be heard,
By someone, anyone, enemy or friend.

That they would take my ranting as discontent,
There’s no reconciliation for that.

I seem to be screaming into silence,
Or was the silence my voice.

My hell, my reality.
My happiness, my void.

-Marie

Tonight it seems as though I’ve returned,
To pages unfinished, a lesson not yet learned.
In a flash my eyes are opened,
Frantically searching for peace.

Begging my heart to slow its pace,
Willing my lungs to breathe.
I wrench my hands from their grip on the blanket,
Unsure still of where to reach.

Although I sit in a silent room safe,
My reality remains unchanged
With simply a blink I’m back in that place
Fighting with all of my strength yet still chained.

Feeling their grip on my body,
My fear too strong to fight.
Hearing those words ring still in my ears,
“Be difficult and you’ll die.”

Their laughter haunts my memory,
Some sick joke I guess.
As I start drifting yet again,
Into that circle of unrest.

-Marie
02/20/2008

Tears stream my cheeks as I pull out the rose.
The heavier the tears, the more I wipe my nose.
This flower changed everything in me
This is where it all began and I finally lost control.
My heart just went completely crazy,
And you have a piece of my soul.

Why did you have to ask me that?
Because now my heart’s in two
My mind is constantly distracted
Because I’m in love with you
If only my dad would approve.

How could you have so much control?
Over my heart, body, and my soul
Please hold me in your arms forever
And never let me go.
Make me feel safe again
The way you used to do
Make me feels as if nothing could touch me
As long as I’m with you.

I felt as if I stood naked
Vulnerable, waiting, completely exposed
As I told you my darkest secret
Showing you each hideous piece
And now you finally know
My horrendous telling is complete.

Okay so now I’ve told you,
Revealed to you all of my fear
Shaking, I think I might be sick.
Then I realize, you’re still here.
You haven’t given up or abandoned me
Though I worry you’ll disappear.

Still you speak words to comfort me
Respect even my boundaries
Not forcing your touch on me
Helping me to settle my mind.

Even when I think I’m at peace
And I thought the battle was won
My demons rear their ugly heads
And I realize the war has only begun.

Tears stream my cheeks as I accept it
Knowing that I’m not alright
Finally seeing the truth for what it is
Darkness overshadowing my light.

What is it about me?
Could it be that I’m wearing a sign?
Telling others that I’d prefer to be
a fixture for them who’s temporary
to completely waste my time.

I’m beginning to see a pattern
One that I cannot seem to break.
Although I’m unsure how the whole thing started
It seems as if I’m doomed to restart it
Only to be left broken hearted
Wondering what I’d done wrong.

If only someone would tell me
What it is that I’ve done
I promise I won’t react defensively
Understanding the gravity
Of what your courtesy extends.

It would help me to end this war
This struggle to find an end.
To finally obtain that priceless reward,
The Daddy who will help me to mend.

I created a change for myself to change my appearance,
And to hide behind the things that identify who I once was.
I am no longer that girl, that child, that innocent
Who once walked this ground, unknowing
And therefore unafraid of those things which lurk in dark places.
That reach out to rip away the faith I had in simple human decency.

To touch me and make me ashamed of those things,
Those fears that make me cry in the night;
Running from the smallest of noises and still not finding refuge behind heavy doors.
For nothing can stop my fear.

It chases my mind in circles,
Mocking me with its laughter.
I seek to find refuge in the things of my past,
Those comforting things that once brought me such peace are now empty.
They are not warm where I might find the peace that I once loved so.
They are cold.

I find myself as a child again, but no longer innocent.
The frailty of my mind cannot fathom the hatred that my heart continues to bear.
There’s a part of my soul which trembles at the thought of ‘everyday’ living.
The monotonous tones and ridiculous patterns of those who do not know what I know.

I scream at them, trying to make them see;
Only to find that I’m dreaming, living in my nightmare where no one sees those things,
Those things lurking and waiting for them,
Soon they will see, and they will know what I know.
Then they will do nothing but simply exist,
They will be as I am.
Marie
08/12/2005

I lie on the floor painting, swirling colors
From red, to yellow, then blue
My canvas a solitary expression
Of the unspoken tones of my mood.

Sometimes it is brightly colored
Where flowers and sunshine abound
The type of image which makes one happy to see it
Gladly showing it to others around.

Other times the colors may not be bright
And the themes of it darker still
Those are ones that are not likely shared
But rather stowed away, tightly sealed.

But still you take what I offer to you,
Whether it be pleasant or dark to see
Understanding the depth of their meanings
And that I’m willing to share them, and me.

Here I sit smiling politely
With a shiny plastic grin
Then I realize that you’ve asked me a question
I’m sorry, what was that again?
You repeat your statement gleefully
All the while smiling broadly at me
Chattering away incessantly
While I search for my escape.

Good manners dictate that I be happy for you,
Be cheerful and toast your success
All the while inside I’m crumbling
Falling apart, my feet stumbling
Even as I am struggling
To regain a sort of balance for myself.

I won’t let you see how this hurts me,
Because although my own cross I can bear,
I couldn’t handle the thought of causing you pain
So my tears remain silent, my cries muffled within
Even as I sink behind my shiny plastic grin.

Marie
-07/07/14

Another night spent drifting,
My memories unbound.
I find myself now anxious.
Not adding up but counting down.

Awaiting impatiently the alarm that I should wake.
Knowing that it will come too soon, any thoughts of rest are now gone;
My sanity at stake.

Watching the hands click mercilessly
On a face I have found as my own.
Until not even looking I see;
Now not even begging, I plead
Wishing for some reason, some peace
From these ever present fears.

Even now as I can’t seem to speak,
Words pour out continually
My laughter is lost in the irony
As the moment for laughing has passed.

But on and on I ramble to You,
Even though You can’t hear me.
And still in my mind’s ear You words echo continually,
“Sleep my sweet Serenity.”

“How can I sleep?”
My anxious mind asks.
How can I forget all that has passed?
Why must I relive these pains
So embedded in my pasts?
Why can I not get away?

Running into the escape of Your arms,
My tears flow freely and I am unarmed.
Silencing every screaming alarm.
Crying for pain in my head.

And as I’ve expected You to, even before
You shush my sobs.
But still I cry more
While silently you hold me
Letting me finally breathe.

Being my strength, my Serenity.

-Marie
04/16/2008

My mind is swirling
Lost in the blinding black.
Colors ricochet throughout my mind’s chambers,
My innermost gardens and intimate places.

Tenderly you touch me there,
And blushing I flee, ashamed.
To know that you see even these private places,
Even the ones which I truly hate.

My shame, my very own ridicule,
It has become a religion to me.
Nay, not religion, simply ritual.
The simple motions I follow through,
As a trained monkey,
Constantly dancing the routines.

-Marie
07/06/2005

I can’t seem to get this out of my mind,
Memories flood my while I sing.
Trying to avoid them, I get louder.
Until no longer singing I scream.

Begging for some sort of refuge,
Knowing there is not an escape.
As if I’m marked by that word,
Not ‘victim’, not ‘attacked’, but ****.
It’s as if everyone could clearly see it,
Etched into my face.

Making escape impossible,
I find myself in a constant race.
Running to the point of exhaustion,
Once again failing, falling, then retreating,
Into my silent, black space.

-Marie
07/30/2006

In the silence of my mind, darkest places unseen.
The parts of me I’d hidden away,
Hoping they would be forgotten.
Thinking they were no longer a part of me.
But no,, stronger still they stand;
Reaching for remembrance.

I long to be that me again,
Yet the darkness draws me near.
The parts of me that loved to hide,
No longer do I wish to forget.

I long for it to embrace me,
To take me back through the memories,
And to re-create me as I used to be.

-Marie,
08/03/2005

I’m sitting here, the same way that I have sat for years.
But now I’m fighting a different demon.
April 4, 2005 (my mother’s freakin’ birthday) is the day, morning, the sum of all my fears.
The second attack; worse, much worse.
No words just empty bottomless fear.
No sleep.
How long can I handle this??
I tried handling this and yet here I still sit.
Staring not sleeping, lost in too many memories.
I have no words to explain myself, nor can I escape my need to.
And you wonder why I live in fear?!
To taste anything but the sick taste of them would be a welcomed escape.
To see anything more than the blackness that they showed me,
To hear something other than my own screams,
Or to even so much as SLEEP!

To close my eyes without searching the silences for any trace of sound,
To lay in the darkness of my own bedroom and not shake from fear.
To know that somehow there is SOMETHING that I can do,
ANYTHING to find comfort in the arms of my husband and to know that he is here.
To be close with him and not worry about some other man invading my head,
Make it stop **** you, please?!
Down me, choke me, **** me, do something!
So that I don’t relive this hell every moment.
Every waking moment.

-Marie

It seems to me I do my best work
When my mind is pre-occupied
Whether it be with worry or drink
My hand finds the pen and I write.

I seem to spill all of my secrets
So easily without my walls
That moment with my barriers shatter
And my unfiltered thoughts begin to fall.

Landing from my pen to the pages
Settling onto parchment in the ink
Until my thoughts have a permanent place
And they’re no longer a struggle to think

In wondering what I should make of them
Or even what I should do
They’re simply a thought laid to rest there
Like a foot print made by my shoe.

Maybe one day I will read them again
But the lack of requirement soothes me
Although it seems that a small about of hindsight
Would then again, behoove me

Then maybe I could avoid my mistakes
And live a life without the animosity
The same string of fears which seems to follow me
Until at last it releases me,
When, empty, I lay down my pen.
Until the next time, when I start to write again.
07/21/14

Why does it seem,
That the days end brings night
A memory of a time when
Blind eyes received sight

Thoughts fight for my conscious mind
Waging war against themselves for my sanity, my peace.
In a flash my eyes are open,
My mind is in a whirl.

Struggling to bring my thoughts to peace
Yet relying on them to reveal truth,
But it seems my reality is
Only the truth which my mind accepts it to be.
Or so it seems…

Suddenly in that moment
My realization dawns,
Truth is lost in one’s perception
And perception will lose in its ever present battle with something.
The opinion of someone who can do no more than to assume.

-Marie
0/8/25/2008

I’m lost in a world I refuse to call my own,
But still its worst attributes define me.

The anger I once loathed, has become my only release,
The single excuse which I cling to for refuge.

I throw my shield up against even the peace seekers,
Those offering a friendly hand are among the ones likely to get burned.

I wish only to accept them, smiling and appreciating their words.
But instead I simply acknowledge them, knowing that within me the anger still burns.

-Marie
08/05/2006

For awhile now I’ve had some outlet,
But now I just feel trapped.

There’s a stirring of emotions, welling deep in my soul
But I can’t escape the instinct to run from it.
Keeping my sanity, keeping myself safe.

Safe? Was there ever such a word?
Or was it a naïve illusion,
Set there to draw me into false security?
To draw my defenses down and allow danger in?

How was it so easy to freeze then but to run now?
My inward battle rages on.
Leaving me confused, empty and tired.
With nothing left to give or say.

I fad into silence once more,
Taking my refuge there.
Blocking every sound, sight, every other person out.
And once again you are left outside,
While I’m inside begging myself to trust
And to finally let you in.

-Marie
02/08/2007

The frustration of everyday monotony, eats away at me.
I am angry with you because you refuse to fulfill,
The simple requests, constantly made of me.

You refuse to realize my fear,
Over things which have been.
I don’t care what I have to do,
I will not experience that again!

Tears stream down my cheeks,
As my fears bubble into rage.
I will not know that darkness again,
The night when all of my innocence was stolen,
Leaving me shaken to my core.
Even the threshold of darkness makes me tremble,
Reliving that fear.
Once again, I say, no more.

-Marie
01/22/2006

Each ****** of their bodies
With each sickening breath.
Only adding to the humiliation
The only relief being…death.

No not a physical death,
Where the body rots away.
But more in the way of my will to fight dying,
Stripping away the faith I had in simple human decency.

Leaving my spirit a trembling child,
Fragile is the word even as I speak it.
Barely letting it tumble from our lips,
Grasping into that time and space
Wishing to preserve it.
Only to have it stolen away and broken.

Shattered and torn searching in desperation
To return to the place where we knew not of such things.
Innocence, there is the word.

Although I wish it and wished it harder still then,
It’s time had come and gone
And we parted,
my innocence and I.

-Marie
09/06/2006

I wake again in darkness
Hot tears soak my face
A silent scream lingers upon my lips
Although not a sound escapes

My mind is still bombarded
With the memories I no longer need
Because each moment is etched on my brain
Making me doubt that I’m the least bit sane
For the fact that I’ve almost given them names
With the frequency of which they come.

It seems at one point I’d be used to it
That my mind would just be resigned
At one point my terror would just be accepted
Free to take residence in my mind.

But sadly this is not the case,
And I fear it never will be
So in turn every night is the same
As these two strange men terrorize me.

Well hell at this point they know me
I might as well call them friends
After all a friend is my enemy’s enemy
So in the end, who is it that wins?

Well my friends, tonight we begin again.

Mistaken, that is what I am.
Too much time spent searching without explanation,
Seeking refuge and comfort from the place where I was taken.

For even as the images they are flood my mind,
In the darkness of my own self-taught solitude
The reality of their truths cut deep into my spirit.
Until I find no use for myself, but to, to what?

Even now my mind searches for a resolution, an end,
Though my soul knows no end will be found.
My time is not near to find rest.

In my anger I thrash out, scratching and screaming
At an all but forgotten enemy.
Only to know that he can neither hear nor feel me.
And that I am reminded daily
Of a night that they have surely forgotten.

-Marie
09/06/2006

Through the haze of my discordant thoughts,
I struggle to find my long lost peace.
In this realization that my battle is lost,
I lose even the strength to bury it deep.

My desire to smile as if it’s okay
To pretend that all is perfect and fine
Dissipates more with each sip that I take
Of this liquid courage, its burn is my fire.

Another few sips and my mind starts to drift
Not unlike another state of mind
In which I’ve felt my spirits lift
Yet this time instead of lifting I’m bound
Not rising up but falling down
Why is this happening, why all of this now?
This makes no ******* sense.

It’s like I stand looking into a mirror
Where my reflection has nowhere to hide
She stands there watching me vacantly
All of my wounds apparent to me
Yet she begs of me only to believe
That on her own she’ll be fine.

Angry now hot tears start to fall
As I hear the truth behind her words
Understanding the lie that they are trying to tell
And I feel her lack of self-worth.

I want nothing more than tell her
That it’s alright to show true
That this is a safe place for her
And she can show herself to you.
Yet I struggle to find the words
Feeling how much she has to lose
As the walls I’ve built up start crumbling
And through this haze I’m stumbling
Finding this all rather humbling
Wondering when it will end.

The point I’m trying to make,
Is lost in the struggle to make my voice heard.

The thickness of mediocrity surrounds me,
Making the relief of breath unreachable, unbearable.

Suddenly I am cold,
My body stale as if I myself had not just lived there.

The place where the unwilling are taken.
The air of that place hangs on my clothes,
A stench I cannot rid myself of.
That place, my nightmare, the sum of all of my fears.

The sounds of that place wake my mind constantly in the night.
To wake horrified from a nightmare only to realize
That the nightmare is truly your life.

Your routines and daily steps,
Pounding their way into your high expectations.
Shattering and cracking them until the tiniest of questions
Blows away anything but that old familiarity which you once denied
But now seem to find pleasure in.

No exit, no escape.
You have become what you yourself one loathed.
Insignificant.
I mouth the word as if I am the one speaking it.
Insignificant.
Repeated as if I needed to hear it again.
Shut out the silences and let me hear the word!
Insignificant.
That is what I am.

-Marie
01/30/2006

These are the words I am afraid to speak,
For fear that someone will hear them.
I’m angry past the point of tears,
But there is no outlet to scream here.

I’ve cried so many tears that I could drown,
But instead of moving up, I’m falling down
Am I wrong, feeling all of this now?
How does this all make sense?

Shaking I put my pen to the paper,
Unsure still of the words to write.
My heart can’t hold back the words,
But to my mind they all seem so trite.

I fell that I’m all but normal,
Because this blocking wall is so high.
On the outside I can make it look alright,
But on the inside I want to die.

All because of the weight of this shame,
I can’t even look into your eyes.
I am ashamed of my own ignorance
My stupidity almost cost me my life.
I pause re-read that statement again,
Maybe I did give up my life.

Re-read it again,
Now I finally understand the emptiness of that night.
On the inside, I died.
-Marie
09/06/2006

I tremble and my heart jumps into my throat.
In the darkness I listen intently.
For a sound, some sign that you’re here with me,
But no longer can I pacify my pounding heart with sound.

I must see you,
I need to see that you’re real.
Not some fake concoction
A device of my own creation,
Meant to fool me into peace.

But again, things have changed.
Still, as I see you resting soundly in my sights,
My eyes blink and I’m in another place entirely.

Sleep is but a fond memory,
A time when darkness meant rest,
And a sweet dream or two.

Now my mind wrestles in the twilight hours
With a whirlwind of thoughts.
And those images aren’t just images
I’m in the movie playing inside my mind.

Screaming I fall into the corner, begging not to seen or heard.
Another night, another battle.
And when the morning comes, I am defeated.

Marie
09/06/2006

This is no longer a relationship,
But simply a religion instead.
Nay, not religion, an order of steps
That as a trained circus animal,
I seem to follow the routine.

Screaming out of frustration,
I try to step out of line,
To suddenly break the pattern,
To beat my own path, but then I trip.
I stumbled and fall and am drug back into the steps
That drag me back toward mediocrity.

Though I scramble to get away,
Scraping away at the lock that holds me in,
When in fact,
It is I who holds the keys.

I wear my spirit to the point of exhaustion.
Til I am ready to surrender it all.
Then Jesus speaks so clearly into my mind
“But I went through hell for you.”

Weakly I pull myself to my feet and wearily I push on.
Through another hour, another day, til the day to you I will belong.

-Marie
07/05/2005