Where the Light Enters

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi


I thought the wounds from my past were substantial until you left a hole in my heart so wide that its quivering walls began to crack open, revealing the vulnerable soul hidden inside.

Each cell in my body is on fire. I am pain and beauty and love.

Though I want to surrender to unending sleep, I continue on my journey. But how am I supposed to navigate life when my compass refuses to work?

My tears speak of my undying love for a man who has released me from his service. If two enter a D/s relationship together, it seems cruel that only one gets to decide when it ends.

But then again, in any relationship, one is all it takes. The moment a soul inches away from another, the ties that bind them together stretch and strain until they finally snap.

Though you let me go and I said goodbye, we forgot to tell my heart. She still believes, still hopes.

Once she yielded to your commands–tender and firm, loving and dominant–she never turned back. She transformed and now I can no longer control her.

You released me, but my heart is still in bondage.

I told her we’re not doing this again; love hurts too much. I told her to close and protect herself. She won’t listen. She just keeps opening like a rose welcoming the morning sun, leaving herself more and more exposed every day.

If Rumi was right, then I am about to burn as bright as the sun.


Expansion Sculpture by Paige Bradley

Too Many Words

When you broke up with me, you did it with such love and sadness. Your last words–which sent me into a fit of sobs–were:

“I love you my darling so so so very much. I do not have the words.”

Well, apparently, I’m full of them. In fact, they won’t stop coming. I can’t stop trying to contact you, I can’t stop hoping you’ll change your mind.

Seriously, where is my pride? Have I completely lost all my dignity?

Today I took the first step towards letting go of you. After half a dozen unanswered messages, I said goodbye.

Goodbye, Sir James, my first Dom.
Goodbye, James, love of my life.
Goodbye, dreams for a happy ending.

With no word from you, I can only assume that I’ve become quite a nuisance. So I’m trying hard to stop pleading, explaining, professing and asking. But I swear, the minute I pressed SEND on that text, my chest caved in. I couldn’t breathe and I ran to the bathroom to cry. It was as if a part of me had been ripped out. Within minutes, it was too much to bear.

I can’t believe this is happening to us! I can’t believe I won’t be able to call you, Sir or My Love anymore. I’ll never hear you call me MDS (My Darling Sub) or My Love again.

We made plans, James. Wonderful plans.

You’re the only one that knows all my secrets, all my hidden wounds.

What am I supposed to do now that you’ve abandoned me?

Oh, that’s right, you do not have the words.


This image by Juan Osborne is based on a picture from Michael Ezra.

Where Has All the Color Gone?

What is this coldness in my chest, this gnawing pain that tortures me day and night? Oh, it’s the absence of you.

When you left you took all the color from my world. Now I’m locked in a gray, unsaturated prison of grief that remembers it once danced among a field of crimson flowers.


Photograph by Ideami, from the series, Loneliness.