Hold up, did this just happen

Once upon a time a last second kiss could have had me twisted out and bent out of shape and then I started doing it myself.  You know that kiss you use to keep them wanting more. Aggressive and primal a touch of fun, it takes the form of a forehead kiss, a long make out at the edge of the door or a chin grabber.

Last night I was hit with a long make out at the edge of the door.  It was a rush of emotions followed by a smooth letdown of endorphins.  The buildup was high before the breathing exercises.  The resounding thought was “Hold up, did this just happen? I’ve been doing this for years kiddo”

A revelation has also occurred did the people I’ve done this to get a rush of nothingness…Was it out of the blue passion followed by darkness.  This whole wave has been just as hot and cold.  It is a chance to examine my style of play and to grow into a more mature participant.  What needs to stay and what needs to go.

I find our exchange to be funny and infuriating. That is a recipe for a supernova. It will be intense and it will be fun but it may not last forever.   Time will tell as we progress.

Hold up, did this just happen?

*Side note have you ever breathed through arousal. 10 deep breaths later you can take the edge off


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Phone sex doesn’t get me off no more than masturbation

The best orgasms achieved come from lovers. Who’ve spent themselves on you.

Much more satisfaction than a simple self induced orgasm. You know your spots therefore you know how tedious it is. Another brings variations of pleasure.

Lovers transcend time & space but a good orgasm, a good orgasm can reshape your mood.

Orgasms build mentally. Starting in a glance or few words. A good orgasm is crafted like spun glass unique each time. Blowing my mind away with your words. Let’s talk about anything other than sex. Show your passion!

Lets get intimate with our clothes on. Can words be the new kisses. Can a slick turn of phrase be a groan. Moans can stay moans. Can we orgasm via an exchange of ideas with zeal

Lets remove our hangups  and make love. I’d love to show you where reality and imagination intersect. Let us talk with our words like we used too.


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What’s 1st

What will kill me 1st

My pride so deeply tied to my sense of self. Will it be the thing that does me.

My laziness, a desire to not do or be. Will it be my final lack of care that causes my heart to seize unable to release.

Will stress could do it, it’s already working. The visits to the hospital, the weak muscles an ligaments, the graying edges.

My emotional stupidity, will it cost me my all. Will it finally break me.

Serving in many different roles & all that comes with that.

I’m scared of what I’ll become & what I’ll never do.

Will I be a good father?

Am I a good lover?

Am I giving too much to freely?

What’s the prices I’m not seeing, ignoring or seeking

Where will I die? In bed or at my desk?

Who will mourn me, will I be mourned?

My first moment stories are shared in my family with joy and laughter

My first moment stories are to me full of fear

Violence was bred into me 1st lessons are learning how to hit and accept hits

what’s the 1st thing I’ll teach


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There is always a moment when you’re sleeping in someone else’s bed & think to yourself

“I should have bought headphones”

It’s my 2nd or 3rd time getting out of bed for water and a bathroom break and keep coming back to these mini naps with a growing diminished return.

“I should have bought headphones”

Watching you sleep is becoming painful. I want to sleep too.

“I should have bought headphones”

These pushups are not helping me wait for you to wake. Counting these tiles agonizing thought.

“I should have bought headphones”

You wake & slowly rise finding me imitating you: stretching like I’ve slept for hours. Asking if I’m hungry or if I need anything. Rising up & pecking your cheek. Grabbing my boots.

You give me a hug & a set of…



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See there is these conversations I keep having involving my sex practices. I’m choosing to let feelings grow and progress to a place where sex makes sense. I find you desirable, I want to take it slow. Carnal desire has ruined so much. From poor impulse control to using sex to fill the place where conversations should have been. I’ve used sex to cope with stress long after I stopped counting to 10. I’ve used sex to manipulate others around me. I’ve tried to fill the emptiness inside me with sex. It didn’t work…

Now I’m trying to take it slow getting to know my partners. Learn more than the moves to achieve orgasm. To learn their name. I’ve had sex with so many people, I doubt I’d recognize them if they sat next to me.

Shifting through the shrapnel from bombs others have dropped on you. You see my response as another attack on your beauty and sexuality. It’s not the case with me. You’re beautiful to me. Sex would be beautiful in the best way on the best day.

I’m just not that guy anymore. I need to feed my soul like my loins. I want to feed you my essence not just my cum.

I know I’ve told you stories about him, the old me & the reckless way he lived. Did I tell you how empty I felt. How doing something so close I felt alone. Did I tell you that I had people I hugged to keep me grounded, probably not.

My lesson, I promise it took me years to learn. I need intimacy. I need truth. To really let sex be a thing we do together.

A thing we do together with each other. Not one taking from the other.

Consuming the wrong people’s energy or them consuming mine. Led to lost opportunities.

I don’t want to hurt you even as I hurt you. Honestly I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want you to hurt me.

Sex opens me up to give joy & get joy. Sex leaves me vulnerable.

Please don’t hurt me. I’ve been hurt before. I’m here now trying to stay safe.

I’m concerned about what I’ll do to you too.

If my price is too high, say the words & I’ll leave you be.

Know that it’ll hurt either way. Loving or not loving. I think I’m worth investment.

We can make something beautiful. Maybe sex is in the future or maybe we’re meant for something else


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a mothers son

A mothers son is the last thing I see in my mind at the flash

The rounds rips through my body and the media rips through my life

finding pictures of high school or college me standing menacing and mean.

They don’t mention my degree or accolades

not the people who look up to me nor

the one I leave behind.

They refuse to acknowledge my humanity

i’m only a animal for their needs

they don’t listen to my wife, kids, family or friends.

I was taken by another mothers son

fear in his eyes mirrored my own

looking at his gun as if he didn’t pull it

each shot hit me and him, but only I bled

his screams echoed off the walls

his arms trembling with each shot

Seeing his tears streak down his face

his words as I slid down the wall

he thought I had a gun, it was groceries

he held me as I bled out

calling for help

his apologies did little to slow the blood loss

his promises to never do it again.

I didn’t mean to do it realizing to late

his headphone blocked voice

he was too big, too tall

I felt small

pulling my gun

shouting freeze

a kid pointed at me

he spun around pushing them back

I fired upon seeing his eyes

his son watch me

his wife pulling him away

he was a family man

a life i took

my insecurity weighs on me accepting this award for quick thinking

I haven’t slept since

all i see is his son looking at me asking why

his wife pulling the boy back

sitting here at my mothers table

i have my note

i have my weapon

i have the award they thrust upon me

I was my mothers son:

kind loving gentle human




just another statistic

a murder

revered for my actions

self loathing taking over


I become the most massaged statistic

the suicide rate of people like me

“Dear Mom,

Sorry you had to find me like this.  Just like you found dad.  You tried to tell me that this job would kill me especially if I killed another mothers child.  You were right Mom.  When I pulled the trigger my life ended with his. I’ve destroyed so many lives with a few bullets. His life, mine, and maybe his son’s who watched the whole thing.

Your loving child”

–  Dreads

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Can we get intimate

I’m not asking for access to your naughty bit.

I want to get inside your mind

can we get close.

Can we lay in bed


listening to music or a podcast

can we talk and exchange ideas.

Can intimacy overtake physicality.

The flesh is not the focus

let’s get lost inside our thoughts.

Can we create a few things

a palate pleasing plate

memories involving




Can we get really close

see if we fit

in the gym

on the field

Can we be friends

Express loss

talk about pain

Celebrate Success

Can we be intimate like they tell lovers are?

I want to love on you some

Believe in your hopes and dreams

Help you see them through

Can we grow together

Lets be intimate

If it’s cool let’s dish the dirt on our Beu’s

can we lay in bed

listening to our hearts beat

seeing vapors swirl

watching the sky get dark & turning to light

Let’s get intimate

Let see where this leads

  • Dreads
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