TRYST Kushiels Handmaiden's blog: "Poetry"

And through the night, I lay as if dead, and within the walls of my mind, its your image that i find. Burning bright to fight the cold, and keep me safe where you cannot hold. The sun is mine, a gift I give, but all the while its short to live. I have been lacking and so I beg, for forgivness for the words I dreg. I lay at night a waist in sighs, for the future that always lies, just out of crasp or so it seems, at least that is how it is in dreams. For A Friend on CT!

I listen to your moans of desire. Know I encouraged them. me, who sleeps alone, who writes poetry. who loves over miles, and wakes up alone. I called to ask you to coffee, and it ended with, her sucking your dick. And me listening to silence. a few gasps, and meaningless words, I know later on, you'll admit my idea, but for now the sounds of lovers when alone. Is worse then glass. burried deep. But I doubt you. know and if you did, do you care?

lay beneath me, allow me to view you. Not as a man, but as lust. Spread out and bare, your body is mine. Hands travel bare plains. discovery is new. Taste, Touch, Smell. all these things become you. Leave the physical, for the mental. Feeling from the spine, and straight to the soul. Movement like the sky, face bent heavenward. Peace locked internal, keep the pace. with mother nature. Keep up with me. can you see me among the stars. Care you join me here? Can you make the leap? Will you survive. Living among me, and the stars. and feasting on desire

because your a smart ass. that answers everything. Like a get out of jail free card. But the card is broken. You're lies and half truths. all earn you my scorn. no freedom from my anger. dismissed and diregarded. you think you have me won. Bought and sold with smiles. Wrapped around your finger. But this is false. I am not bough. and never am i sold. Smiles do not make me yours. I am smiling not in belief, but that you believe, that I would swallow, all this. And still you have no clue.

sleepless again. I am thinking about you. Off and on again in the hours. Wondering how you sleep. If I were laying there, watching, what you might do. I sigh in the night. I fear these emotions. They set things at risk. I want to sleep this away, but when I close my eyes, I see your face. And how it watchs her. How she shaves a smile, a special smile, just for you. I see her hand on your leg. and I feel jealous. But then the images faded, and I can pretend, that I don't save a smile. for you alone. That I don't care so deep. And try and be happy. That's right before. I cry.

a disappointment an accident a girl, a freak Bitch, Slut, Whore. Each a lable. one you put on me. Dyke, strange, wierd, not normal. I am sure at times. I've been all of these. In someone's eyes. but with a flip, and a new perspective, I become more. friend, lover, dreamer. Caregiver, sister. daughter, and mother. Just a slip in perception. Beautiful, strong, endependent, brilliant. So percieve at will. Remember it goes both ways. and sometimes, how you look at someone, is how they look back at you.

it would be so easy for me if I could learn to hate you. But you linger with smiles. Still playing the white knight. When I am seconds from paril. At my worst you stand, to remind me of my good heart. I wish I could hold my anger, feel that black feeling. let it take over you. But when I am bloody, and on my knees. having let myself down. There you are, hand ready for me. A fellow survivor from hell. It might noe be the same, but its then I know; I cannot hate you. that I owe you no anger. at my worst I am still You're Angel. hidden from eyes and with that I can say honestly but only to myself I love you.

I fall willingly into sleep. Fill of fears and doubt. Will this muse return, after so long an absence? Last time it took so long, for her to find her way back. That I fight sleep as it were death to the writer it the same. When muse is gone, there is no more art, without art, there can be no life. So still I rail against sleep. Draining my muse of it all, for the winter is long, and I am not sure if she'll be back. Fight against the sleep. Give not to the land os dreams, but live forever on the page. Until this moment, when fate wins, and muse runs. I fall into sleep, well spent, and forgtetful of why I write.

to dream is to make reality for are we not made up of dreams? were we not one once ourselves? I cannot turn my back on those, the little pushes in the mind. If I reject that, I reject myself. Love is a dream, it was once said. can you tell me it is not real? What if all we dreamed of, all those random thoughts, really were what made up the world? we would be so powerful, and never know it. So you give up on dreams. Me, I will live forever, in my dreamed reality.

hidden from the eyes of the world we build this secret place Where rules change and what is fact blurs. What is wrong, becomes common place. And fantasies run wild. Here chains litter the floor. and satin falls from the walls. Where pain and pleasure mix, like the flavores of the night. Here we are king and queen. Where day is banned, and vampires play. here I am your willing slave, our hands know each other. A turn of the wrist, a crack of the whip. Clothes are just to hide in. But we cannot live here. we have loved ones, ones left behind. So night after night. we return here. and come dawn we leave it. side - by- side. Asleep in each others arms.