My painful memories sift through me like sand through stretched fingers. Only small pieces cling and stay around for me to keep, the rest just disappear. I know not where and I don’t

When he sees my pain, the old and new, he pushes me to give it to him. To give in to his need to consume all of it and make it his.

I’m the answer to her pain. She’s my answer for the need for it.

A lot can happen in a heartbeat though. Even a really fast one. Lives crumble in a heartbeat. Promises are lost in a heartbeat.

I’ve succumbed to the absolute power of the man that pulls, culls, calls my unwitting submission. And I’ve embraced the power of my submission to draw him in further, to have him kneeling and worshiping what he’s conquered. I’ve known surrender and strength with him. True freedom. And a hell of a lot of orgasms.

The only place the broken past has in our present, is the place we give it.