(no subject)

My vision was so blurred I could barely make out the words on my computer screen. My hand was numb around my mouse and my back was aching from sitting rigidly on the edge of my chair - because my mind was lost in the darkness of your bedroom. I could see you splayed across your bed and feel the chill of ice chips on my tongue, with a well-greased dildo in one hand and your cock in my other.

 

Then I suddenly realized I've got the perfect lube in my desk drawer.

(no subject)

There's a special ring
When he calls
And I rush to listen 
Warm baritone
floods my ear
He's funny
Sarcastic and witty
The occasional pain in his words
catches the light
like the scales of a brook trout
shimmying beneath the surface
He tries to change the subject
but he can't let it go
And for some perverse reason
Neither can I
So I tug at the barbed words 
I want to wriggle them out
Instead he takes his pain
in another direction
He's afraid that I'll hurt him
Better that he hurt himself
That way he's still in control
I hear him giving up
Despite that glimmer of hope
that he throws me
"Sometimes I think
I'm just a little bit better than that
you know?"
I think so too
His pain fills my chest
With softened lead
I can feel it pressing against my lungs
As I wrap my own arms around me
And hold my phone against my cheek.


I am sustained by the hope
that allowing him to talk 
might work things out
inside his head
and help him get on with his life
but sometimes I'm afraid
that he'll talk it all out
and choose to die anyway.