a poem, like a cage
But I am patient, and I understand something fundamental about the dichotomy of your role. It's not me your fighting. It's the coiled desire you keep so tightly in check, the sliver of need I've awoken.
It is surrendering to your desire you fight against.
And my firm grip, my gaze as it watches you, my words that detail the way I will lay you out as a feast, the knowledge I will follow through, despite your own fears – these are just the first steps.
—
'Don't Feed the Words' said the sign.
[audio:Djaevle_Signs.mp3]
D'jaevle, Signs
January 26th, 2008 at 4:09 am
“Don’t Feed the Words.”
Why not?
January 26th, 2008 at 5:34 pm
yes, the surrendering is the thing, not you…never you…
January 28th, 2008 at 5:44 pm
That was depressing and sad….
No one loves you…
Aw
January 29th, 2008 at 7:07 am
Quite wrong, NE.
January 29th, 2008 at 10:17 am
NE has a tendency to become quite bratty after she has received a good beating.
January 29th, 2008 at 5:31 pm
I couldn’t help it.
February 10th, 2008 at 1:30 pm
I have chanced upon your blog. Lots to feed the imagination but bloody scarty poem. Freaked me out the way you read it.