To me, she is still a beautiful mystery.
Never had an encounter, never spoken.
Only through beautiful, haunting images.
Like fallen angels on the crumbling church walls of old.
Images that invoke fear in others that don't understand,
but to us,
we are connected. Entwined like vines in dreams and fantasies.

She's the lady of the coffin whom, in my mind each night, i crawl inside
with her for comfort and safety.
Caressing her face, I fall asleep in peace with her beside me.

We die. We wake.

(/i)FEELING LIKE POO
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO (TODAY)
MAYBE A PILL OR TWO WILL TAKE THE EDGE...AWAY

OHHHHH, PILLS MAKE SO FUCKED UP
I CAN CAN'T TELL LEFT FROM RIGHT
EVENINGS SEEM LIKE MORNINGS, AND
MORNINGS SEEM LIKE NIGHT

WHEN I THINK I'M GOIN UP
I'M REALLY GOING DOWN
WHEN I THINK I'M GETTING THERE
I'M HEADED OUT OF TOWN

SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE ANDY
SOMETIME I FEEL LIKE JIM
i SEE A PIC OF TWIGGY
AND WISH I FELT LIKE HIM

AS YOU AN SEE,
SOMETIMES I WISH I WASN'T ME

AS I CAN SEE,
A PILL OR 10, IS ALWAYS THE KEY


Birthed by: Jordan aka Perfect Violation

Don't look back, before you go.
Eyes forward...
choices to make...
Dreams to realize.

Know the truth.
Learn to let go
and don't look back
before you go.
Before you leave...

Me.

Floating into subspace,
I am finally fucking free
don't have to worry about
anything
don't have to worry about me


(Bound and confined
I've damaged this fragile mind)


I don't want to leave this place
Close my eyes and feel my pain
this keeps me from
becoming totally fucking insane.






This poem is about the Irony of bondage inside an SM scene. Even though confined, bound and being at anothers will, entering "sub-space" makes me feel a sense of peace and freedom i cannot attain anywhere else.
Physically, I am imprisioned
but spiritually I am free.