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My wet mouth, has left...

the heft,
of you,
to dangle low...

with your flavored ***,
still chambered,
in my strained
throat...

These hazy lips,
have swept
your member, in their
paint strokes.

And you, remain...
glittered, and glazed
in the shifting flickers,
of my
lip stain

Your thighs, and hips
are slick,
with spit,
restrained,
in chains, and clips...

do they eclipse
the pain?
When my fingertips
slip,
in sinuous ways,
between your straining limbs,
to maul, and grip,
your disco *****,
in a limber fist,
and to give their haul,
just, a little
twist...

"Mine...
You are mine..."

A sotto voce drawl,
on the "bottom" line,
as I scrawl these nails,
down your softened spine.

Now let's see,
what can happen,
when we cross, some lines.

Which one, is the Master,
and which one, the sub?
When a brat has got you lashed,
and stuffed
with your cheeks gashed,
and your back, up...

give that thick ****, a slap, but
I rub and tap, the plug,
until I feel you... clamp up...

Ready? I think you're ready.
I think you're hungry...
I think you need me.
But I hate, to disrupt you,
while you're lovingly feeding.

So let's give you something
that's fun to eat, then...?

Now, open.
Wide.

I'm gonna measure your throat,
with the bulk,
of the biggest, of mine.

Now I'm dragging the width,
down the bridge, of your nose,
and the fat, of your lips...
snap you, back, with a grin,
and a slap, of the tip...
As you grasp, at my hips,
through the strap, and the belt,
and latch on, to the shaft...
and then melt,
down the sides.

"Mine...
You are mine.
Don't you know...
that you are *******, mine?"

...With your lips, spread,
to ****...
as I'm thrusting,
inside.
For any kinksters who appreciate, and my Master switch, especially.  πŸ˜πŸ˜‰πŸ˜˜ Happy Priiiide, my bisexual king. πŸ’—πŸ’œπŸ’™
born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel

flames could
not
touch that heart

always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall

and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise

till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw

was the jack of hearts

and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like

the jack

of hearts,

black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts

and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had

the jack of hearts,

blue sky shimmering
in her eyes

jack became
the brightness
of her day

and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
                
               act. 2

... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light

and then
the jack of hearts
walked away

a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night

and the queen of diamonds
cried

the sea into sky

with eyes
like twilight
waiting

to eat away the day
I'll gladly oblige the request you have
As I run my hands through your hair and drive you mad.

Look into my eyes, you see me smile, I'll take my time, we may be here for a while.

Gentle I'll be or as hard as you like
The feel of your skin, it gives me life.

The warmth of your body, my breathe in your ear
Do not fret, you have nothing to fear.
Leaving the mirror feels like walking out of a shadow,
You try to piece together the fragments,
Accepting they will never mirror you again.
Some might say it’s your fault,
But it feels like walking through life
With a quiet strength where there once was emptiness.
Solitude.
Acceptance.
Self-compassion.
Growth.
Patienc­e.
Stillness.
Gratitude.
Understanding.
Trusting your own reflection.
No longer seeking validation,
No longer seeing yourself in others.
The image was false,
But the truth is clearer now,
The quiet voice that was always there,
Unshaken.
The grief fadesβ€”
Not gone, but transformed.

Strength.
Awareness.
A new beginning.
~for Ghost

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4968322/trauma-bond/

I wrote this in a style to mirror the framing of the original as closely as possible in solidarity for recounting my own experiences in a similar situation.


Broken Mirror explores the emotional journey of self-realization and healing following a toxic relationship. The poem reflects on the experience of losing a relationship that was built on validation rather than genuine connection, symbolized by the shattered mirror. The narrator, once dependent on external affirmation, finds themselves confronted with the stark emptiness left behind when that mirror is broken. As they struggle with feelings of solitude and grief, a quiet transformation begins, one that shifts from confusion to self-awareness.

Throughout the piece, the poem traces a movement from pain, isolation, and self-doubt toward acceptance, self-compassion, and ultimately empowerment. The narrative journey mirrors the internal process of healing, where the protagonist learns to stand on their own without relying on others for validation, embracing their true self amidst the fragments of the past. By the end of the poem, the narrator no longer seeks validation from external sources but instead discovers strength in their own reflection, marking the beginning of a new, more authentic chapter in their life.

The poet aims to capture the emotional complexity of a relationship defined by narcissistic dynamics, while also offering a hopeful perspective on self-reclamation. The poem invites readers to witness the pain of losing a validating reflection but also celebrates the transformative process of reclaiming one's true identity in the aftermath.
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