There is a dam
I long to tear down
The wall
Holding back a river
Of tears
That want nothing
But to be free

When they
Overflow outside
Of the lonely
Of the shower
Or my kitchen sink
In the wee hours
Before dawn
Or muffled in the
Of my pillow

Their escape is met only by

I ache for a reason
Good enough
To let them flow
Pain that will strip me
Of the defense
That keeps them hidden
Which might allow me
To actually feel
To fully feel

To openly feel

Tie me up
Take my will
Tear me to pieces

Set my tears

So that I may finally
Be me

Safe Harbor

I need a place
Firm floors and soft edges
A structure of steel
Draped in pillows and blankets
Warmed by the sun
Shimmering in the dark
With the promise
The one promise
That no one
Has ever made.

I need a place
A safe harbor

Where I can fall apart
No one else’s needs to meet
No demands
Of time or wit or ability
No decisions to make
No bedtimes, screen-times, mealtimes
No downtime
Never any requirements
Of my mind
Of my eyes
Of my voice
Only my flesh

I need a place
A safe harbor

My blanket fort
Your sofa
A mattress
Or futon
Or backseat
It isn’t the location
It’s the mindset
It’s your attitude
It’s a command
Bend over, feel, break, cry…
Come, baby girl, again

I need a place
A safe harbor

Where I can beg to be
Until all that is left
Is the calm eye of the hurricane
The center of the
That is my life
All that is left
Is me

I need a place
A safe harbor

Where pain isn’t frightening
But comforting
Where the tangled
Unruly web
Of this world
Looks like silly string
Dirt is just fairy dust
Piles of laundry are pillows, or even clouds
The disarray is simply magic

I need a place
A safe harbor
Where the sobs
That escape my chest
Aren’t fruitless cries to an empty shower
Never meaningless
But instead
They are music
A sonnet leading to a symphony
Of laughter and bliss
A concert
For one

I need a place
I need to fall apart
I need to be taken apart
I need that impossible promise


I need
Safe harbor.

Dark Dream

At the start of this dark dream,
I cannot hear anything but my voice.
I cannot see anything except myself.

I’m grasping in the blackness for you,
Pleading with you to speak to me.
Begging you to touch me.

I know you are there,
I can feel your presence.
I can sense you.

But you still don’t speak or reach for me,
I begin to cry and scream.
“Why don’t you want me?”

Finally I feel your grip,
As you tightly wrap your fingers around my throat.
As you viciously restrain my wrists.

I still cannot see you,
Something distorts my vision.
Something dark, thick and heavy.

“Why don’t you want me? Sir,
Tell me what you want.
Tell me what you need.”

“You don’t know how,” your voice is cold,
I cannot fulfill your desires.
I cannot be your charge.

You release me, but it feels as though you never had me,
I stand and await your command.
I do not remove the blinder.

I whimper into the darkness,
You beckon me to find you.
I anxiously set out towards your voice.

I sense your presence closer,
I reach you, knowing it, without touching you.
I fall to my knees at your feet.

“Why don’t you want me?”
The question hangs in the air.
You remove the mask from my eyes.

You sit before me, bathed in the darkness,
My flesh, untouched.
My lips, unkissed.

I search your empty eyes,
You do not see me.
You do not hear me.

You beckon for me again,
But I’m right before you.
If you’d just reach out, you’d feel me.

“Why don’t you want me?”
Your eyes pierce my soul.
Your tears sting as if they were my own.

“Please, Sir. You’re hurting me…”
Your gaze finally finds mine.
You finally heard me.

“I cannot truly hurt you,
That’s the draw, pumpkin.
You’ll have to hurt yourself.”

I actually would hurt myself for you,
I would do it everyday.
Because you can’t hurt me.

Because I need to be hurt.

Because you need me to be hurt.

Because you actually DO hurt me.


“Why don’t you want me?”

And then I awake,
My heart in my throat.
My nails digging into my palms.

Hurting myself.

For you.

The sadist in my dreams.