night coaster

The night holds my hand

Guiding me through

Navigating darkness

Searching for you
The night holds my head

Spinning the tale

Dragging me down

Independent hell
The night holds my fear

Amplifying the noise

Facing my doubt

Devoid of all poise
The night holds the truth

Facing it down

Unkind and unheard

Letting me drown
The night holds my heart

Making me feel

Tethering my body

Brings me to heel
The night holds my dreams

Begging for release

Frightening in the day

Blackness brings peace
The night holds my love

Overwhelming and raw

Lifting me up

Glittering awe
The night holds my home

Knowing me best

Exhaling for Him

Contented, I rest.


When Sir takes me out to eat, He orders for me. Generally, He’ll ask what I want and then do all the talking to the waitron. It’s a beautiful thing, for multiple reasons. First, I don’t have to talk to strangers! That in and of itself is reason enough to hop on this ordering train!  But there’s more… Sir ordering for me makes me feel cherished, protected, loved, dominated. And when He also chooses my food?! He may as well fuck me on the table, I love it that much. I know it is a small, silly thing, but it makes me feel delightfully owned. 

Every now and again, we will get some sort of feminist waitress that tries hard to thwart His control. Like yesterday. Sir told our waitress that we were ready to order. Naturally, she turned toward me and asked what I’d like. I smiled and politely deferred to Sir. After He ordered our food, the waitress felt the need to turn to me again, to verify that I was fine with water. It rubbed me the wrong way and I’m not sure why she couldn’t read the table. Sir and I discussed the interaction and laughed. He didn’t particularly like it, but was amused that the young waitress seemed to be trying to ‘take care of me’. (trust me, I totally look like I can handle my own!) Throughout the rest of the meal, she directed most of the questions at me. Though I’d have preferred to stay quiet, you better believe I answered, lest she think I was being held hostage! 😉

Times like these make me wish cuffs and collar were an acceptable part of my day to day. Until then, we’ll just laugh it off and Sir will continue ordering for me…

It’s always an adventure!


thinking [in and out] thursday

You can look in from the outside, drawing your own conclusions…

… and concoct elaborate stories of motives and circumstance.

You can scream warnings at those you think blinded, show them the light…

… or hold your tongue in dismay, not wanting to burst their bubble.

You can stay safe inside, where the stories you hear become your reality…

…and choose to turn away from the world, ignoring anything that doesn’t please you.

You can take inklings of doubt and wash them away with mantras of your own making…

…or simply focus on all the good that is inside, blocking out the rest.

Sometimes the outside view is bigger, broader, able to discern a more complete picture. 

Other times the inside view is brighter, with sacred inner rooms, hidden from outsiders – a sanctuary.

Maybe they have no wisdom, those peeping toms of our lives. But maybe they have some knowledge, to broaden the insiders’ horizons. 

Perhaps those holed up inside have a mythical tunnel vision. But maybe they have intimate knowledge those on the outside could really appreciate.

As for me… am I inside or out? I like to leave the doors open and move about freely. Only when my view is broadened am I able to fully know and appreciate this lovely life of mine.

Happy Thursday!