Heated Chains

Heated Chains: Part 1

I wake up again, panting, wishing for this to be over with already. Shackles of my own loneliness and lust hold me up as I listen for the inevitable footfalls on the stair, which come only when I cease to (hallucinate) again. As I attempt to unlock myself from this self-inflicted pit that I have fallen into, they finally appear. As they walk into the room, my eyes watch with anger at my weakness and embarrassment at the fact that, deep down, I wish be bound like this because I have nowhere else to go. However, each arousal blinds me for longer until the line between what I want and what I have is irrevocably blurred. I stare into the face as it comes closer and closer, kissing me until I fall again into sweet-tasting indulgence and insanity.

These dreams are always the same, my independence and believed inner-strength spat upon as the visions contain my deepest desires. Wishing to be loved for all of me, as my waist and ego are caressed. In this moment, I dont care that this isnt real because this fantasy, this unreality, is the only one that I can claim for myself. There is no guessing, no uncertainty, and no reason to not continue. My life within “reality” has left me little to give up so staying here is too easy.

Again, I fall into a non-sleep that arouses feelings that I always proclaimed that I never had and the heat takes me once more.



Part II: Heated Depths

Within the Dream State
My body is the victim of my thoughts and my thoughts are the night’s prey to my physical cravings. Each intertwine the other in a ongoing circle that keeps me trapped within caresses and chains, wondering if I’ll ever see the light of my self control again



What My Dreams Are Made Of
I dream in emotions where visuals and imagery are secondary. I’m more than just raw, I’m singular and all consuming with the power of what I feel. I wake up with the aftertaste in my mouth and heart and it takes hours to reach any sort of reality again but the heat of my fire stays with me.




Part III: Tentative Cooling

The chains that once burned so fiercely have turned cold on me. After one last effort that blazed into dissipating presence, whatever was holding me here has disappeared. Exhausted and aching I look up at the basement door. I am not sure but I think it's finally unlocked. The only question is if I attempt to escape, will I only be pulled back in. As I walk towards the door though, so far, it seems not