intheshadowsagain

[intheshadowsagain]

* falling masks *

hold me in the darkness

when doubts consume

fears overshadow

and thoughts cage

my soul in

hold me a little bit tighter

when you see the tears in my eyes

that can't shed

feel the ache in my heart

that roars so deeply in

my chest

and dread numbs my being

paralyzing my steps

hold me so close,

when you see the masks removed

and you truly see my eyes

knowing all that exists deep inside

every wall which failed to fall

every puzzle piece's labeled name

every hurt that is wrapped in chains

every layer that casts its blame

all is down

I'm on the ground

the masks are removed

the ache is so potent

wrap your arms so tightly around me

and for tonight

please... I need you

just- hold me

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

[intheshadowsagain]

In the radiating rays of the autumn sun the warmth struggled against the morning cold. The old hound eagerly trotted along the worn path surrounded by mature trees proudly displaying the colorful leaves. “Jake!” cried a hunter equipped with a handmade bow. Dressed for a chilly morning he and his faithful companion went out to catch dinner and to begin stockpiling food for the upcoming winter. He approaches the hound who was stopped staring intently out to the side of the small path, nearly over grown but still distinguishable. He draws his bow towards the large buck. He watches it move behind the brush, barely able to see the huge rack and tines placed almost purposely as battlements on its head. The hunter lets the arrow go and it sails true towards the buck who stepped out exposing his left shoulder. The arrow rips past the targeted area slightly high from the buck, spooking it and it bolts away from the danger it barely escaped. Jake looks upward to the hunter in a comical way as if teasing his owner with a look of disapproval. “Ahhhh shoot” the hunter exclaims, “I had him!” They walk to the spot where he missed to retrieve the wayward arrow and finds something astonishing. Sitting hunched over on the cold forest floor was a man. Dressed in animal hides and soaked from the morning dew. A small ring of stones and a beat up heavily worn sword next to him. The hunter kicks at the old man’s foot while his bow at the ready unsure if he is just passed out from a night of heavy drinking. He proceeds to search the body propped against the tree for coin once he finds the man hasn’t flinched. Noticing the tattered chainmail he finds that the man before him isn’t a drunkard but a warrior. “Looks like the poor ol fellar didn’t make it through his last fight Jake”, the hound still cautious and weary of their find. Just then the old warrior takes a labored breath and the hunter is surprised to find he is still alive. Quickly he sets off to gather wood to fashion a makeshift stretcher. “Well maybe mother won’t be so upset about me missing the shot if I bring her this sick man to fuss over.”says the hunter to Jake. He grabs the end of the stretcher and sets off to his cabin. The cabin laid not to far from where the kind hunter found the warrior. It was a modest and humble place, almost a storybook feel about it. A pen sat off to the side with goats and chickens along with an angry mule being pestered by Jake upon their arrival. The housewife waited for her husband at the gates curiously examining from afar the thing he was dragging behind him.” What a blessing” she exclaimed , “We shall be well kept for the winter”. As he neared she had notice the object was not that of a carcass but what appeared to be that of an injured person. Quickly she went to meet her husband to see what would be immediately needed and went back to the cabin to begin preparations. Once inside the couple began removing the pelts from the injured warrior looking to find a gash or a broken off arrow, something that would help them to find this mans downfall. The fire freshly stoked in the hearth heated a pot of water and the woman began to wash the warrior down. “ Damn…..look at all his scars” said the man,”I am surprised that he has made it to his age” “Now let’s not be rude. He needs our help” his wife tells him and throws a scowl towards him. After finding no visible wounds the gentle couple dress him in fresh clean clothes and place him in an extra room vacated by their children who came of age leaving their home to start their own lives. The couple close to the lying warrior’s age have been alone for some time and were content with the unexpected company he has brought to them. The wife was a kind woman with graying hair, always busy mending clothes, cooking and generally keeping house. While the hunter was a portly fellow and held himself in a most honorable manner when he spoke and walked when they visited the town. He was not born into a life of entitlement though he learned his mannerisms from his father who served a nobleman. Together the fine couple was liked by their neighbors and fellow countrymen . Several weeks have passed as the kind couple tended to their guest’s care. Feeding him the best they could, even shaving him of his scruffy graying beard all while unconscious. “Look at him dear”, his wife concerned “He looks so angry even while he sleeps “ “Never you mind that. I’m sure he had a rather tough time out there in the woods” “But what if he kills us in our sleep?” “Seriously? Well, what if he generously repays us for nursing him back to health?” They leave the room and head back to the hearth for some extra warmth. His eyes open and looks around at his surroundings. The small candle by the bedside dimly lights a few stuffed animals and toys. Confused he’s bolts up out of bed nearly falling to his knees as his legs feebly tries to support his weight. Wobbling he makes his way to the door and staggers toward the sounds of talking. “Ah, I’m glad to see you are finally awake” said the man. “Come and sit next to the fire. Wife! Please fetch our guest some stew, I am sure he is famished.” The warrior struggles to reach the chair and the man stands to help him over. “I reheated the stew kind sir, it was what we had for supper only a couple of hours ago” as she proceeded to hand the warrior the steaming bowl. “Thank you” he replies. His voice crackling from all the time he has been asleep. “How long have I been asleep? How did I get her? Who are you people?” And he begins to cough uncontrollably. “Easy now my good man, all will be told. But first eat and drink, we will tell you as you feast.” They tell him of that crisp autumn morning and of how they tended to him bringing him back from the grips of death. Explaining that they had to burn his clothes for fear of the plague but keeping his sword. She brings his sword to him trembling in fear, worried that he will kill them. The warrior only looks at it, his only friend to him for what seemed like an eternity after one fateful day. It was cleaned, polished and sharpened to a fine razors edge and gleamed against the light of the fire. A small smile invade his face and resumes to eat his second bowl of stew. After getting his fill he looks at the couple seated across from him at the table. The crackling from the logs in the fire and the small howling of the wind the only thing assaulting the silence. “If it is compensation you seek I’m sorry. I haven’t any money.” “Nonsense! We could not accept payment from a human in need.”replied the husband. A human thought the old warrior. If he only felt as such. The many years of mistreatment from other’s has led him the believe otherwise. He was brought back from his thoughts when the woman brings him a mug of ale and a piece of crusty bread made earlier in the day and proceeded to clear the table of the wooden bowls. Her husband pulls out a pouch of tobacco and two pipes, packs them and proceeds to hand their guest one of them. The warrior thanks him and draws deeply the savory aroma . Upon her return the hunter looks at the old man across from him and asks “So tell me…how did you came to be, having fate to cross our paths?” Uneasy the warrior moves about in his chair before deciding he would rather stand. He exhales a cloud of smoke of the pipe he has clenched in between his teeth. Walking toward the window letting the light of the crescent moon in he thinks to himself of where to begin. It has been many years that has passed where he has spoken to another person. Looking out of the window he begins to tell them of what he could remember. He explains to the couple that despite of the armor and sword he is no soldier. The scars that he bore was that of no war but that of battles he’s endured against the demons of his own. These demons that materialize in a physical form to torment him when he is weak and when he leasts expect it. They are the devils born from his mind of all the wrong doings done to him and haunt him throughout the night. He tells them that the night before the kind hunter found him he was at his fire keeping warm. Then he notices movements in the shrubs and readies his sword. One by one he fought the creatures that swarmed him till he finds that they all were leaving or cowering away at an arms length. It is then he sees his greatest fear. “I never really see it” he dryly says, his voice cracking,”only its shape. The dark figure seldom shows up but when it does….” He shudders and continues to stare blankly out of the window. “I watch it come to me and I try to fight it. This demon knows me all to well and can get the best of me if I’m not careful. As I fought it I never looked into its face, it is probably the only reason I’ve survived for as long as I have. But this last time it spoke and caught me be surprise.” The old warrior grimaces and looks down at his pipe. With one smooth action he re lights the pipe and draws in another flavored breath, turning and peering into the troubled faces of his hosts. “ I know it sounds far fetched but I tell you I’m not a lunatic.”he tells the couple with some shame. It is for this very reason along with the general mistrust of people of why he doesn’t speak. With that he retires to his room handing the pipe back to the husband along the way. Later that night he can hear their hushed voices talking about their concerns over them. He forces his eyes shut and goes back to sleep with a little trepidation. Weeks goes by and turns to months. The onset of winter has taken hold across the lands blanketing the grounds with a pure powdery white snow. He is still there and performs odd jobs to earn his keep. He feels a familiarity at being there, no longer living in solitude and under the stars. An uneasiness though, always lays in the pit of his stomach. One early evening as he cut logs for the up coming cold night he notices a rustle from the nearby tree line. He pauses and watches to see what is going on propping himself up by the long-handled ax. Having exerting a lot of energy into his task has his body pumped and coiled for action. Time recuperating has done him well and his strength returned to him, the body of a young man in a old person’s frame. Looks can be deceiving as the old man knows all too well as he fought for years to stay alive and being caught off guard by the simplest of things on occasion. “There’s enough wood,” the the woman hollers out from the back door. “Come in and warm up from the cold. I have tea brewing.”. He nods and places the axe down and peers out into the woods before returning to the cabin. He can sense something is amiss. An uncanny ability he’s gained throughout the years and honed well. Inside the kind woman had poured tea for him and her husband. The warrior can hear him snore and he chuckles as she placed a cup besides him while he’s nestled under a blanket sitting next to the fire. As they drank tea she asks him more about himself. He stands and walks to the window with a worried look on his face. “There’s not much to say other than I had traveled from one side of the continent to another searching.” he says eyeing the woods for whatever it is that has him irked. “Really! Well what is it you are looking for?” she asks. “I’ve been searching for so long that I have forgotten what it is.” A sadness flushes over him. Then from the corner of his eyes something grabs his attention and he faces the window once more. His eyes widen in horror and fear grips him. He had thought he had escaped his demons, the ones who stripped everything from him leaving him a hollow shell of a man. “Are you alright?” the woman asks, “ You’ve lost your color.” She watches in terror and shock as the old warrior begins to bleed from all the ancient scars he bore and she quickly wakes her husband. Motionless the old warrior stands in front of the window looking outward, their voices drowning from the sound of his rapid beating heart. With the failing gray light of the early evening and in the tree line he sees a figure withdrawing back from where it came from…in the shadows again….

[intheshadowsagain]

Falling rain canvasses the peaceful slumbering valley at a leisurely pace. The low rumble of thunder nicely breaks the soft steady beating sounds off the rooftops. I open my window to let the sporadic flashes from the lightning and the refreshing wind enter the bedroom on this melancholy night. As the early budding trees sway, the whispering winds seem to call to me. A hypnotic song playing with my sadden heart. I watch vacantly sitting in my chair with a feeling of loneliness. Memories that haunt from a time when I lived. My mind shows images that I can not bear to see and instantly a pain so long suppressed makes itself known. Fidgeting I light a cigarette and breathe the fumes deeply into my lungs, a destructive pleasure. I watch as the smoke floats around me. Occasionally swirling towards the open window pulled by the wind. The gentle storm increases in it’s intensity and now beats a steady drum, what was whispers turned to a constant howl. The bedroom momentarily lit up in a flash snapping me from my trance. I leave my room wearing nothing more than worn out pair of gray sweatpants. Walking outside my bare feet tingles at the feel of the wet grass and the warm rain coats my skin in a welcoming embrace. The wind doesn't resemble a howl anymore but a low wail while streaks of blue and white changes the darkness around me into day. As I continue walking the crash of thunder fills the air and my mind thinks of one special person. A smile comes across my face while I think about her. The kindness, humor and countless hours of small talk. An acceptance of who I am. Acknowledgement of my humanity and an understanding. Alone in a field I face the sky and close my eyes. Thousands of mile may separate me from her and there may be times we don't speak much but I'm still grateful. In my mind she is with me, the rain falling on me is her touch. The wind is her voice. The lightning is the fire in her heart. For as long as the storm goes on I won’t feel alone. Such a beautiful night….

[intheshadowsagain]

Motionless the old and tired warrior sits by the creek side. Staring into the icy cold waters flowing amongst the stones worn smooth the hands of time marches on in a rapid and unforgiving pace. The deep lines on his face shows the struggles he's endured , the constant frozen frown embedded forever. He is mesmerized in the calming sounds of the area and reflects on events that has unfolded recently. Unable to move forward he is locked in the persistent battle within himself, the greatest foe one could face. The stress and loneliness strips away at his health while age always reminds him of his mortality. Nevertheless he forges on trying to salvage the small ember within his soul. The old warrior has found the answers he searched for and realized the quest he pursues was that of life. Confused and beaten he musters the failing energy and slowly rises turning to the east. Briefly he stops to watch the birds fly against the gray backdrop of the sky drawing a small smile. It is here in the arms of mother nature does he find a little solace and he once again begins his aimless wandering . A pillar of smoke can be seen in the distant horizon unlike the column of smoke and destruction left in his wake of past battles. The sword that has faithfully served him swings down to his side. Stained with blood and rust displaying the many years of his perilous journey. "How can one continue?" he thinks to himself. While the answer lied in himself, that of humanity. Not once has he acknowledged to himself that he is human, the one piece of the puzzle he searched for. Although he is blind to the emotions that drives him and that of what shapes his life. The years of ridicule, the constant hurls of discouragement and the consistent reminder of worthlessness has conditioned the now old man that he is inhuman and lowly. Into another new town with a slew of new faces that will look through him, past him as if he does not matter. A mere inconvenience for the folks who inhabit this place, all which bares the similarities to the countless town and villages he's passed through. As like any town before the unpaved road filled with muck pulls at his boots further straining the sore bones of the dedicated warrior. He watches and waits for the kindness to come across him and sees that none arrive. Deciding to leave he ignores the pang deep inside and continues on crossing the great divide to find what he is looking for. The companionship to make him whole again, the companion to walk this journey.... the journey of life.

[intheshadowsagain]

Hiatus,

It has been some time since I've posted anything. Life as it is has been hectic and trying for a bit. Leaving me physically and mentally drained. Though not much has changed to afford me more time I've decided to try and write again. So forgive me and understand that I am a tad rusty in my attempts to write again. Still learning the ropes.

[intheshadowsagain]

What possesses a person to abuse another? To ridicule and make them feel worthless and horrible. What satisfaction do the abusers receive in enacting a behavior of superiority at the expense of a human? At a time of vulnerability do I find these people come out of the shadows, stalking their victims like a lion singling out a weakened antelope near a watering hole. Confronted I stand in front of her, words of hate and anger spewing forth from her tongue. Cutting and stabbing my very soul and stripping my humanity. I look in amazement at the little regard she holds as my younger kids sit nearby. Their expressions of shame and disgust rips me apart while I am helpless against the onslaught. Accused of being selfish and inconsiderate she continues the degrade me. In my mind I can only wish to destroy this awful being, showing the true monster she deems me to be. Squeezing the life out of her, staring into her eyes and watch the glimmer escape as she slowly dies. Ridding this world of another abuser. After her destruction of my emotional being I retreat outside. Sitting in the twilight as her hurtful words echoes through my mind. I've endured this abusiveness for many years and thought I had dispelled it when I left. But circumstances has me once more in her clutches. Questions that can never be fully answered is what I am left with. I am drained of life like a dead wilted garden. Only fed evilness and neglecting. Nothing can grow with me.

[intheshadowsagain]

There was no discernible path to follow in the dismal moonlight. The dark hollow was not going to help in showing any direction. Pushing aside the wild overgrowth and dodging the occasional low branch he held steadfast making his way through. Why should the journey be any easier to navigate when it is much more satisfying to have all the unnecessary obstacles strewn in our way? Every once in awhile a small clearing is present and affords the weary traveler a view of his prize. Sweaty, dirty and tired he forges on, certain that in the end it is all worth the trouble. Faith, only faith is what he has. Stories of better times, fables of happiness and love are what he chases. A fool's adventure one would think but it this that keeps him alive. He is cut up and down his arms from the razor like weeds in walking the only route he has. The crimson blood glistens in the moonlight in a haunting manner, a small reminder of his humanity. The stories of this old warrior can be seen deep in his brown eyes if one can and dares to face him. The years have not been kind and always wary he keeps those far from him. Along an outcrop of large rocks he sets up camp. He gathers dried wood around him for the fire to keep him warm and provide safety. Safety from the creatures of the night unlike him and from the demons that haunt him. He is aware of their presence and can see the beady red eyes peer from the shadows. Settling in listening to the crackle of the fire he thinks of her. The dream he is chasing, as the flames lick the air he thinks of them dancing. His eyes are fixated at the flame and he is smiling and at ease. A feat in itself with all things considered. Out there in the distance she is waiting, unable to come and meet him. Bound to her captors by a band she is lost from society, invisible to them as a person and known as a property. The old warrior can feel her in his cold soul and listens to her song of sorrow. Noises breaks him from his trance and he scans the dark for its origin. Uneasy now he is concerned only because he is unarmed. His still healing wound on his chest reminds him of his mistake and quick retreat leaving his trusty sword....his only friend behind. It was then he heard her sweet voice for the first time and because of her he pulled himself across the mud and into the woods. An uncanny alliance is forged from this dream. With every soft breeze he can feel her and the rustling from the leaves relays her messages. Souls from another lifetime he often thinks, for it is through her that has his faith renewed. Looking deeply out into the darkness he can barely make out the silhouette of an old demon he's battled countless times before scarring him for life. Yet he is no longer fearing of it. The soothing wind light to the touch comforts him and he hears her voice carried by it. The old man knows deep down inside that only he can bring happiness to himself it but he wants to share it. Does he put himself in harms way purposely? Or is it that the deep seeded need for love that would prove to all and him especially that he is human? Only the treacherous journey ahead can answer that. Yes....a foolish trek embarked by the old man but one with great promise....one that is surely overdue.

[intheshadowsagain]

A moment to Breathe. A plastic bag flutters noisily high in a tree catching my attention. The bone chilling wind has me raise my collar and watch the tress sway as I feel the temperature plummet. Hapless clouds gives way to the unmerciful fury, forced to travel at the storm’s whim. It has me think about my life, about how it unfolds. Masters of our destiny I am told. Rulers of our lives. Although I struggle at times trying to see any truth in that. We all have speed bumps on this road, obstacles to a varying degree of some sort that has some uncanny way of disrupting our travels. Why is that I ask? Am I that leaf that has broken off from the tree of life and left to the element’s will? I am left to watch this leaf float high in the air carried by each gust of wind wondering if it ever had a choice. It’s main purpose was to work with the others, sustaining the very tree it was anchored to. Then in this storm unlatched against its will to fall to the earth no longer part of the solution of life but litter among the landscape. I turn solemnly my back against the setting sun as the beginnings of the storm unleashes the rain softly to the land. I begin my travel to the refuge and warmth of my residence. It is here in this twilight I find myself most comfortable, neither belonging to the world of light or darkness. We are all born children of the light but somewhere the darkness has taken us as their own. Though circumstances has me now reveling in these shadows along with others that I find among the pages I frequently read. I have seen life in the light and wallowed in the depths of my darkness and to be honest it has shaped me for the better I think. Experiences solely of one type can not make a person well rounded in my opinion. Is it a balance that I am still walking with scars that barely wants to heal? Or a warning as I stroll with those in the light for what could and may happen? I enter my place, the rainfall now in full swing, and sit by the window. The quietness of the room gives way to the steady drum of the rain on the roof. Looking out the window at the comforting act of this storm I think and dream about love. Of how it feels and how the necessity of such a powerful emotion is vital. The past few months have been a whirlwind of activity. Attacked from all aspects of my daily rituals. From the uncertainty of job security and to the prospect of finding a house so I may begin to rebuild my shattered life, all the way to the welfare of my children which is constantly weighing on my mind. This quiet storm with its flashing lightning unfolding before me is a moment for mother nature to unwind and I await for my moment to breathe. I so do need to…

[intheshadowsagain]

Silent tears Flowing within Saturating A heart which aches

Breathless Screaming without a voice Unsure of the restless moments And how deeply My soul is to break

Every fiber being pulled Twisted Clenching Onto the false hope And promises which Could never be made

A world of one Fears which run deep Behind the smiles Is the escape The outlet Of secrets In which I keep

[intheshadowsagain]

I can still hear the angry sounding hum of the neon sign all the way up to the booth we sat at. The yellow and orangish light casted out to the gravel lot made me feel queasy. The small diner was nearly empty and yet the place still had a handful of the regulars who frequented the dingy and unkempt place there. The crackling music had an amusing feel in the attempts to provide for a more sophisticated atmosphere and welcoming at the same time but all of that didn't matter. What mattered was the company I kept. The coffee was brewed fresh and swirled in antique era cups although the pies and strudels we had order was a different story. Intently I watched her bring the cup to her lips and I become lost in her eyes. We spoke for hours about anything and everything, time held no meaning for us. We laughed upon realizing that unconsciously we both tried to become more comfortable despite feeling pins and needles that nervousness brings. It was not because we did not want to be there but more of a teen state of mind on a first date type of thing. In fact I had longed to finally meet her, to actually see with my very own eyes and to have her sit across from me sent chills. She was more beautiful in person and to watch her move left me starry eyed. I had to keep reminding myself that staring is rude and may very well make her uncomfortable. Nonsense really for it was like keeping from looking at a picturesque sky colored in pastel hues by the setting sun. She knew of my feelings for her and our eyes never left from each other. After having our fill we decided to drive to a nearby park to take an evening stroll. The drive was quiet and relaxing as she just contently held my hand during. The walk went the same way, her still holding my hand and neither of us barely saying anything, yet I was not worried at all. She had led me to a small lake that she frequented during our many chats on the phone which drew a big sheepish smile from me. I asked her if this is the spot and she nodded yes. It was here that our bond had grown months prior to my visit. Our little escape from the daily grind, free from prying eyes and free to be ourselves. We had learned much about each other and in the course of things our souls became one again. Seemingly lost and separated from a time long long ago they had found each other knowing full well they were to be together. Fate? Perhaps…but what was inevitable has yet to come. Still holding her hand I turn to her spinning her to face me and our eyes locked in place. This was the moment I've dreamt about, the countless dreams of us together. I leaned in, stomach in knots and placed my lips to hers and all went silent. Only our heartbeats could be heard amongst the sounds of the birds and crickets of this spring evening. Her kiss felt home…a place I had not found since becoming an adult. My worries melted away with her soft caress, her hand placed at the nape of my neck keeping me near as mine pulled her to me at the small of her back. Finally I had her in my arms… the passion in me has an outlet to please this special woman. We had knelt simultaneously in the grass fully aware that it was a natural instinct as we feverishly continued kissing. She pushed away, the look of hunger in both of us was undeniable. I grabbed her wrist and sternly looked deep into her incredible eyes. Am I ready to let the genie out of the bottle? Forced into exile and hidden in the back of my mind I’ve kept my heart locked. Here she is with the key…looking at me with a want, the very same want I have burning in me as well. I let her hands free and I pull her to me again kissing her with the very soul of our past. I lay her gently in the grass, my hands removing her clothes and neither of us saying a word…to join our bodies as our souls had. I had felt a peace that has been missing from me as our old souls made love that night…in the shadows again.

[intheshadowsagain]

It took some convincing of her to help me in my art class project. I had decided to try it out after hearing how fun and fulfilling it would be in trying something new. I told her that for a passing grade my project had to be different and figured that it would fulfill that requirement painting her as a nude. She reluctantly agreed after explaining that the rest of the class would be doing scenes or objects with different shading while mine would certainly earn me a passing grade. I certainly don’t think she would of agreed if it weren’t for this strong chemistry between us. It was always present in our conversations and when we were in close proximity the electricity could be felt through stolen glances. After a few days passing she arrived at my apartment. I had laid an old blanket to serve as a tarp on the floor and placed a table over it at the center of my living room. The work lamps were placed strategically on opposing ends to eliminate any adverse shading. I showed her to my bedroom so she could get ready while I continue to set up my makeshift studio. She returned to the living room wrapped in a towel and a puzzled look on her face. “Where’s the easel” she asked, the look of concern now taking place. “There’s none” I replied"because I’m going to be painting you.“ I went on to explain that her body was to be my canvas and following the contours of her figure I was going to create a landscape that would be all her own. She went to the table and removed the towel laying down on her back. I could not help but to gaze in wonder at how truly beautiful she looked lying there. I could feel a want within me of her and I pushed it aside as best as I could by refocusing our purpose of being here. Placing my bag of paints on the table I removed the contents and set them close to her at the areas for their use. I began at her face using a base coat to hide the natural color of her skin. I had prepared everything in advance, choosing the finest brushes and paints for my master piece. I had gone as far as scheduling breaks at certain parts, snacks and drinks in the fridge at the ready. I had expected it may take several hours to complete then photograph the finished work. Everything was thought of except for one minor detail. She was doing well, laying still as I worked from her head down. We spoke of various things as I tried to keep her comfortable and for me to remain focused, a little hard considering. I navigated her neck and shoulders with ease, the soft horse hair brush covered her skin effortlessly and with precision. Upon reaching her breast I had paused in admiration while my hand froze just millimeters from her skin. "Is there something wrong?” she asked as I abruptly snapped out of my trance and I resumed placing the brush gently on her skin. Following the curvature of her breast I continued painting her and could see the reaction with each stroke from the corner of my eye. The soft bristles and the warmed paint had made her nipples hard as I purposely controlled the pressure on the brush painting her areola. I looked up at her and found her eyes where closed at each touch. Reaching her stomach things became much less intense when the bout of giggles took both of us by storm. It is true that laughter is quite contagious as we laughed for the duration of the area. We had taken a break and I had raised the option to her that we could forego the lower half if it was uncomfortable for her and she was totally on board in continuing. After the brief break I started at the top of her feet and worked my way towards the mid section. Passing her knees it became harder for me, my breathing…heavier and thoughts of her lying there for me kept distracting my attempts of control. I reached her thighs, trembling from excitement and becoming more aroused. Each time my brush strokes her inner thighs, legs spread open…her fully exposed I can hear her moan. Her back arched as I neared her freshly shaven mound as I noticed her breathing becoming heavy with desire. My hands shook as my wants now was overtaking me and I tried with all my might to be as discrete with my strong arousal. She placed her hand on mine and leaned forward. The look on her eyes said it all and we quickly kissed each other while she started to remove my clothes. The deep blue paint that covered her face and the rest of her body had been smeared across my lips and cheeks. This vision of my angel of blue pulled me onto the table to join her. We had an extraordinary evening and afterwards we had laughed from the both of us covered in paint. I had learned that evening more than I can ever imagined, one that you can never fully plan for anything and the other is what true art was…that is…the art of love.

[intheshadowsagain]

It was a quiet and uneventful night while we watched reruns of shows that we agreed on and the both of us snuggled in and lounging on the sofa. The kitten sat on the recliner envious of the warmth being generated by us while it sat on the recliner with what appeared to be a scowl on its furry tiny face. A storm can be heard brewing outside and the both of us paid it no mind, with our closeness it mattered little. That is till a flash and a boom caused the power to cut out. The kitten startled from the ruckus outside bolted to the comfort and safety found underneath the bed in the adjacent room and I said I needed to get up and fetch the candles. You said you’d prefer to just lay beside me for which I replied that will be so afterwards. My apartment is small enough to navigate in near pitch black darkness and I heard the fridge open shut with the sounds of ice cubes thrown in glass cups. Evening drinks on a stormy night…that’s nice thinking to myself as I returned to the living room and lighting the single candle placed on the coffee table. I had noticed you had not returned from getting our evening cocktails and instead heard some activity from my bedroom. I knew it wasn’t my kitten for the movement was distinguishable and saw you crawling to me on all fours completely nude as you entered the light from the small candle. I watched how you slowly slinked towards me, your ass high in the air and you looking like you were stalking a prey to pounce on. “Ah…my kitty wants to play I see” and you meowed in your best imitation of a cat with a smile that started to have my blood rise. You reached me and climbed onto the couch straddling me, kissing me with such passion and drive that can be felt throughout me. I caress your back and heard a sigh from you between our heavy kissing. I growl in a pleased way while I was becoming aroused from you sitting on my lap. Feeling my hardness you lower yourself from me unbuckling my pants and pull me out. You ran your tongue down my shaft letting a meow to come forth from your lips to remind me of your role. Another pleased growl comes from me, “Such a nice kitty you are” I reply. Your tongue returns up to the tip following the earlier descent and you take me into your mouth, the gentle suction and warmth of your mouth coupled with the way your tongue moves along the underside of my cock sends my head reeling and I close my eyes continuing to growl with such great pleasure. The staggered flashes from the storm and the soft soothing sounds of the falling rain elevates the sensual scene unfolding. I watch you kneeling in front of me, your eyes looking up to me in the dim glow of the candle light has me fully erect. With each swirl of your tongue as your head moves up and down makes my cock throb in delight pulsing steadily with each heart beat. I could not take any more and knew that I had to have you…to be inside of you. I lifted your head up from my lap from which you let another meow of your best kitten imitation. I looked at you and said play time is over my little kitty lifting you from your position and laying you on the couch. I remove the rest of my clothes seeing how beautiful you truly are lying there, the flicker of the small candle that has only a few minutes left creates the gentle glow that allows me to watch you moving your hands across your breasts and following the curves of your body. I could not tell you how long I stood watching in awe, your moans, your movements have me hypnotized, stoking the lust building in me. I move on top of you my breath heavy with desire and I kiss your full lips. I am so worked up from you that I ache all over, my head is swimming from overload of my senses. I leave your lips on my trip to taste you and stop to suck on your breasts, your nipples beckons for me and I pay particular attention to each of them gently nibbling them to be fully erect and sensitive to the touch. The feel of your breasts to my rough calloused hands is a welcome sensation, kneading and squeezing them while I continue to ravish you. The building urge inside me is becoming great and I proceed to make my way down kissing every inch of your body. I place my self between your legs and was greeted by your hips moving upwards inviting me to feast upon your woman hood. I can see your wetness glistening on your folds and instinctively I moved to taste you finally. My tongue parting your lips probing the inside of your pussy. The sweetness of your juices, the pleased moans as I flick along your clit drives me to continue. Your body writhes to my touch, my hand reaching out to your breast pulling on your nipple as my other hand inserts a finger touching your walls as I begin sucking on your button. I knew it would be mere seconds when you arched your back letting a cry of ecstasy escape your lips. I move up to you and kiss your lips, your chest heaving causing your nipples, sensitive to the touch force the breaths to be short. You wrap your arms around me pulling me close to you and finally I enter your pussy. The last flicker of light from the nearly extinguished candle had given me the gift of seeing that look of pleasure, you biting your lower lip and those incredible eyes full of want and lust…desire. Your warm and wet pussy takes all of me in when the candle goes out…only the sounds and smells of our love making filling the room as mother nature sets the music to our rhythm.

[intheshadowsagain]

The fierce storm dropped hot rain that burned your skin at impact. The wind gusts strew debris and the rain at me. I can see the turmoil that is all around me and I call it home. I've witness this gloom before and for many years. I've come to call this hell my shadows and desperately I search for an escape. It was during a lull in the forsaken hell that I've found her. She had shared many things with me and both have sought some kind of relief from the storm finding it in the company of each other. We've laughed and showed each other our favorite places and even shared our dreams. The shadows had begun transforming into a place of normalcy no longer dreary and lonely. But for this particular day the shadows tried to regain its hold in my world as it breathed fire across the land. Incinerating every thing that was changed and anyone in its path. We could see the wall of flames roaring in our direction and began a hasty retreat for some shelter. As it neared I notice your pace slowing down and eventually come to stop. I turn to her and asked why and she replied to me "Look! Just look! I have these chains around my wrist and I'm bound!" As I looked to see what's keeping her from being safe from me I could not see what's holding her back. " I too have chains around me and will always carry them with me but they will not stop me from living, they have been broken from the prison that kept me by you" I exclaimed. I moved to sit next her, eyes streaming with tears she asked "Aren't you going to save yourself?" With that I looked at her and told her I already have.

[intheshadowsagain]

he keeps me grounded, the way his words can caress my skin it’s undoubtedly sinful. He never gives me conditions, because love just is… it fills us, no I mean it feels us, every emotion painted in vibrant colors upon our aching touch, every depth in my soul he knows. He catches each of my pulses that beat as loud as thunder breaking through a sky. Love me, love me, love me till my breaths resound and break this absolute silence… he has so much fucking passion I want to soak in him for hours, and walk away smelling like him.

the night (via mydarlingwhispers)

💋❤️💋🔥

[intheshadowsagain]

A hush fell on the land and all of the creatures in it watched in trepidation. The dark shadow crept in from the cold north encompassing all it touched. They all began to run in panic from the gloom that overtakes, the fear that weakens even the strongest beast, seeking shelter for what they think is an upcoming storm. I knew better and looked to the west seeing the last of the light fall behind the snow capped mountains. With the light failing I gathered the wood for the much needed fire, setting up for the long evening ahead. It came quickly, the dark, and the silence around was unnerving. Even the stars in the skies weren't out and the stillness of the air had seemed to choke any activity except the flames from the fire built licking the darkness. I can hear all the demons of my mind move about in the darkness, the shadows escaping the confines of my mind. It is a familiar landscape, the area filled with absolute destruction and sadness. I move close to the fire not for warmth but for security as I look around nervously for signs...signs of trouble. The warrior in me had been laid to rest as I have light to keep my demons at bay though it may have been prematurely done. They move about in the corners, their red eyes reflecting....peering at me while I do my damnedest to ignore them. I watch my demons become brazen and try to pull me back into their bleak world. Try as they may I struggle to stay in the light for their world is my own brought about by my experiences. I can not escape what is me...only mask what's inside...lie to to myself that I'm ok...that this is all but a nightmare. It is my life...I fight alone as my warrior awakens to take arms again. Will his plight ever end?

[intheshadowsagain]

Love it is.

[intheshadowsagain]

Much truth.