Poetry ~ She Lives Inside Her Head

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Compliments of Xavior, written 2.9.05

She lives inside her head so peaceful.
She dwells deep within her own thoughts.
Her mind wanders over the endless of now.
Her thoughts ponder a future dementedly dark.
Her eyes are vacant slots that show emptiness.

She lives inside her head so peaceful.
The darkness invades her every thought.
She screams out in silence to hear herself.
The voices grow louder inside her head.
They scream for release she begs for peace.

She lives inside her head so peaceful.
I reach out to her yet she retreats.
I sing to her soul yet it ignores my tune.
I embrace her fears yet she starts to run.
She looks right through me all the time.

She lives inside her head so peaceful.
My love for her so deep yet never touching.
My want for her happiness never occurring.
She screams inside herself lost alone.
Fearing another’s touch not wanting to fall.

She lives inside her head so peaceful.
She cries deep within her soul so lost.
She screams within her spirit searching.
She searches within her darkness for light.
Alone her steps falter but her will’s so true.

Her journey of self discovery a long road.
Her efforts to finding peace slowly succeed.
Her pain so great her determination even more.
She lives inside her head so peaceful.
She dwells within herself searching for her key.

Poetry ~ Her Submission

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Compliments of Xavior, written 1.30.05

She kneels before me in all her splendor
Her hair flows that of golden sunlight.
Her lips are soft and yet so kissable.
Her smile brings about gentle dimples.

Her soul so weary and very tired of it all.
I look down upon her as the precious a gift.
Her submission so rare that it is to be loved.
Her voice that of an gentle summer breeze.
Her devotion so deep that none can compare.
Her wounds deep open and forever breathing.

Within her mind she quietly searches.
Her search for the one to truly free her.
The one that can touch her soul so deeply.
The one that can set her spirit free to roam.
I watch her from a far so timid yet so strong.

She kneels quietly trying to hold herself together.
She waits for the one that can hold her together.
She yearns for the one that can truly understand.
She aches for the one that knows how to tame her.

Her torment so visible yet so much hidden from the eye.
Her scars lay bare to those who choose to see them.
I see her quietly in the corner crying softly.
Her will divided between all that she knows.
My worry deep for her my regret so visible.
My tears fall for her innocence that is lost.

My heart aches for that pain which makes her real.
My step falters for her journey that has begun.
There is no solace in that which I now feel.
I rejoice for her journey is my own and I am with her.

lili: Ego states – Parent-Adult-Child

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I ran across Master Tanos and lili’s site some time ago. It’s come a long way since I last visited. I will readily admit that theirs is one of the first pages that I enjoyed flipping through. I admire the type of relationship they have and I can only hope to grow as much as lili has. That being said, I think this was an interesting essay of lili’s. For any of you who haven’t visited their pages, you should. It’s well worth the read.
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yielding slave: Slavespace

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I’ve recently put a name to a feeling I have had, a place I’ve gone within myself. Slavespace. Simple enough to say, and a rather fitting word. I know I’ve mentioned that second plane of thought in some of my entries and I’ve seen dreamy posting something I think is similar in her journal, so I figure now is a good time to post this:

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Quotes ~ Anais Nin

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I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.

—

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

The Teacup

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I found this some years ago, wish I knew who to credit. A bit cheesy, but kinda neat nonetheless:

A couple vacationing in Europe went strolling down a little street and saw a quaint little gift shop with a beautiful teacup in the window. The lady collected teacups and she wanted this one for her collection, so she went inside to pick up the teacup, and as the story goes the teacup spoke and said:

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Jen {SE}: On Being “In Service”

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I have been asked recently, and often in the past, what I was – bottom, submissive or slave. My answer to this question is that I am a servant. For me it is quite simple, I serve my dominant, hence I am a servant. Service to me is all encompassing; it is not just the domestic ”molly maid” version that some think of when they think of service.

It means serving him in all ways that he requires. I am maid, cook, laundress, chauffer, gofer, sex servant, bottom, submissive, slave, carpenter, office assistant, computer technician, etc. I am what he needs me to be and what pleases him.

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Dark Connections: Loving Submission Through Service

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Over the time I have been on my personal journey in submissiveness, I have come to learn several things about myself as well as the BDSM community. One factor of myself is that I am very much service oriented, yet I find many in our community do not understand how a submissive can be service oriented and from where they gain their pleasure. Many have joked, ”if there are any service submissives about, I could use a housekeeper.” And I hope in what I write here these views can be turn to a better comprehension.

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