Mindspace

I cradle my heart.

With my anxiety; split.

Please, I beg, save me. 

-Pandaish

We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

This debt we pay to human guile;

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile

And mouth with myriad subtleties,

Why should the world be over-wise,

In counting all our tears and sighs?

Nay, let them only see us, while

     We wear the mask.

We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries

To thee from tortured souls arise.

We sing, but oh the clay is vile

Beneath our feet, and long the mile,

But let the world dream otherwise,

     We wear the mask!

-Paul Laurance Dunbar

This poem will always hold a special place in my heart. I first read it when I was 8 sitting in the local bus station waiting for my mom to finish "talking" to a guy she knew. I found this book of poetry sitting on the bench and this was the first poem I turned to. Who knew it would have such an impact. 

Their eyes are empty. Hollow as the goard that swallows sound like a forest when a predator is known. Not a fleck of spirit within; a void of apathy and malice.

Their hands are rough. Abruptly they claw; jagged and sharp. Filthy they mark my skin permanently. Bruses like a plum flattened into my body.

Their teeth are deadly. As sharp as a surgeons scalpel they gleam. Glistening and dripping with hatred. Disturbing they smile, a silent promise of pain. 

Their words are cruel. Empty promises and complements flow; red as blood against the snow. Unabashed insults and bottomless doubt fill your ears.

Who are they, this monster who stalks me daily. Torturously slinking at the edge of my vision. Hiding when I try to show someone else. They make fun of my heart. They carve up my body. They gaslight my mind. 

They are the worst, they are steadfast. 

Forever I will be followed by this beast. 

I won't ever be rid of them. Not a silver stake nor holy water will exorcize them. Not a spell or incantation. I am stuck forever with this demon of hatred.

As I look in the mirror I see them even now at the end of the day after my energy has been spent, they followed me home. 

They are me. 

I am a monster. 

-Pandaish

Let's talk about rope; diverse as the clouds in the sky. Thick or thin, soft or rough, the yin and yang of this incredible strand takes away all the thoughts that plague my brain. Good and bad there is only Him. 

Soft and whispy, pale palette of pinks and reds it kisses my skin. Warm as the summer sun in the morning;  Gentle and kind it tells me I am safe. Just the beginning of brand new journey, it launches me into the atmosphere and I never want to come back down. 

Strong and slick, a cord of fiber twisted into an unbreakable bind. As a hand through the fog it grounds me and reminds me I am alive. Like the north star to a person so lost, it is there and firm in it's stance; not even my anxious mind can argue. 

Natural and rough, a lash of abrasive pressure it keeps me focused and out of the daze that freedom always brings; just enough to remember what's happening. Teach me and tell me how to please. As a leash to a pet guidance is what You offer with a hand so strong...covered in a black glove. 

With skill and grace, tenderness and unyielding hands covered in black will set me free with a pinion of hemp. Chest and soul exposed and caged at the same time; so raw and primal. 

Set me free by binding my body so that my soul may soar! With rope against my skin I can be the purest form of me. 

-Pandaish

Hello, I am over here!

Quiet and patiently waiting to be used; on the right corner I sit.

Legs dangling from the ledge; a little rock to match their steady rhythm. 

You pass by me, I brighten and smile. The anticipation warming me from the inside out. 

You glance; you pass. 

My eyes fall, my vision narrows and darkens. A tunnel, my vision is; a train on autopilot. 

I pause and kick my legs again it's steady rhythm leading me on through the darkness of that little corner. 

You round the corner, I tense and set still; waiting. You pause in front of me, I turn to look at you. 

My world brightens, I feel a smile pull my lips up. I cannot help it you are my sun. 

You reach for my controls; finger brushing ever so gently against my knob, and passing to the cup on the counter next to me where you had left if a while ago.

You must be thirsty..I would love to help you, bring you joy. 

But I am the Backburner.

You turn to leave again. My vision darkens,  blurred by unshed tears I refuse to acknowledge. 

Back to my steady rhythm...not so steady anymore. A litte broken and out of synch. 

My mind wonders..no wonder they don't want me..my rhythm is broken. 

My shoulders slump. Like the flower on the windowseal above me; a single pale yellow daisy. 

Wilting without water.

I pull my legs up to my chest..why keep a rhythm with no one else to hear it. 

Silence broken by sniffles. 

Muffled by my legs of broken rhythm. 

Because I am the backburner. 

Useful only when all the other burners are filled...

-Pandaish

Voice has power over me. It had the ability to shape an entire perception of a conversation. 

Let me show you..

Look with me, if you may, through lyrical eyes. Humans, people, us, we are all but dancing on the wind. The colors swirl around us like ribbons on dusks horizon. 

Every interaction we have with one another is just a complex dance; twisting, turning, dipping. Do you see that couple in the corner, dangerously close to eachother? You can see their dance if you look close enough. 

A scarlet tango, full of flesh and breath; their hands explore eachothers curves and angles. The hot aura palpable as the mist of the Trinidad coast. 

Thick and wet. 

The people in the corner to the right, next to the windows. They are clearly old friends; a sea or white and blue like a tidepool in the moonlight. Waves lapping at the shore in a calm rhythm; the sea star and the sky becoming one at last like the universe hugging itself and becoming whole once again. 

Cool and smooth.

Thoes two yound people there, at the bar sharing a king-size brownie supreme with candied cherries, whipped topping and fresh shaved chocolate on top; are soft and as pastel as the clouds soft and sweet like sherbet in the sky a complement to the vast pink dawn kissing the outreached earth. 

Pure and bright. 

Now, be discreet, I don't want to embarrassing the young lady involved anymore then she must be already. In the far back corner whispering with angry hush; you can see that the their girl sitting quietly clearly didn't know Mr. Ponytail already had a girlfriend. Glowing embers of red and black; sweltering and scarring the hearts too tender for breaking. Like the molded apple on your refrigerator you forgot last month; whithered and sad. 

The beauty of voice, the amazing complexity of the inflection and tone of one's voice very well control the course of a conversation.

Dances of lust and love.

Dances of friendship and pain. 

Now you know why...I am afraid of hearing or sharing my voice. It is too powerful. 

--Pandaish

I haven't been touched in a month. A forgotten coffee mug at the back of the cupboard; watching as all the others get used. 

I crave the warmth of another body. A single fingertip like a feather along my spine. A hot breath rolls over my skin. 

I need the eye contact. The existence of another soul so closely to my own; the proximity causing our heartbeats to synchronize as a steady soft beat drum.

I miss the intimacy that comes with a connection. A true fit to your heart that is rare to find; a kindred being existing right next to you. 

I want the raw passion. Like a Bitch in heat I crave you inside me. To be so full of another person that you don't know where they end and you begin.

I imagine your big hand around my throat. My life in your hands I get wet. The anticipation of pleasure and pain are almost too much for me to take.. will I break?

I haven't been touched in a month. 

Laughter; a cacophony in the night. Smears of color across my vision like watercolor floating down the creek. 

In a cloud of pink and red I spin; around in a pattern that brings comfort, known and familiar. 

In a cloud of green and blue is a smile; joy something so palpable it pulses within your hands. 

Lights; a swirl of shadows and spirits. Hiding in the corners of my vision, my desires whisper to me though the night. 

Spining around and around the mount beneath me bucks slowly lifting me into the cotton candy air; my vision begins to drag and blur, shadows blend into red velvet.

As the dark walls and drapes creep into my vision I see him.

Across the way as still as predator; a leopard in the grasses bearly visible. His hunger kisses my skin as I see him swallow. His throat sensually moves, with the effort. His lips pull me in..

Spin.

I loose him, where did he go. Where was I again? Why did I feel light headed. 

Spin. 

There in the shadows, his smirk pulls the heat to the surface of my core; promising me pleasure and pain. 

Buck, this mound beneath me is suddenly causing pressure. Lust. 

The room blends into the night and I remember the night thoes teeth drug against my skin leaving flames in their wake. His lips pulled the moans from my soul and the shivers from my sex. His hands so big they could end me in an instant, yet he tenderly touches my skin, my desire building as he marks me with his mouth and nails. Red welts deliciously raise along the trail his mouth made. 

Buck.

I moan in memory but he is gone. As I dismount I can't help but hold my snacks and prizes close hoping to meet his eyes in the night. As I leave to go to my car a little earlier then my party I feel him. He is following me...I feel small and in danger; delicious danger of loosing my sanity tonight. 

Dare I give in....Dare I submit?

Hello, I am Panda. 

I am a 29 year old pansexual sub female who has only been into the life for a few years. In thoes few years I've learned that bdsm is a part of who I am fundamentally and have grown to incorporate it within my day to day life. 

As of late, I have had a child and have been out of the bdsm life for going on a year now. Life As a first time mom and a life a submissive is extremely difficult to balance and I have only recently with the older my child gets been able to miss and desire to be in the life again. 

Though at this time I am strictly looking for platonic relations due to being in a monogamous relationship. I'd still love to have some people to chat with, dom, sub, male female or anything in between. I'd love to have someone to chat with over time and just have some fun chatting with like minded people. 

Message me if you'd like to chat! 

I love talking about pretty much anything but books music and food are my favorite topic, both naughty and vanilla <3

I also love animals and traveling if you're just interested in chatting <3

Let's talk about autonomy; a sense of self beyond who you are to others. A single flower in a meadow of wild blossoms. 

Most don't know, as for myself I also didn't know until it was set in stone, I am creating a life. Once a single flame on the mantle now a fire in the hearth I am a catalyst of a new soul. 

The journey has be rough like a cats tongue, too short and sweet to ever actually commit to memory, I already morn the loss of movement within me. The flutter of little wings against my spine. 

Behind the sense of wholeness this new experience has filled me with the awareness of the incoming loss of autonomy. A single feather on the pheasants tail, part of a beautiful mural to help bring balance to the birds flight. 

Will I still be me when this being leaves my body and becomes a whole themselves? Or will I loose myself; my individuality that makes me aquamarine in a sea of green. 

Will my collar still have meaning? Or will I become just another single who has blended into the crowd contributing to the economy of this world. 

I have decided that regardless of how I have grown and changed in these last 9 months, how my heart has grown bigger and will soon have an extention outside my own body in the form of separate sweet small star; I will remain me. 

I will remain a soul who shines with their own light and helps reveal the way for others whom come into my life and I will stay a whole person. A little. A slave. I will always be who I was and who I am; only now I see my love in a physical form that will smile at me in the purest sense.

And I am so excited to meet him in 2 more weeks. He will be here, outside my body and within my arms. 

And I will always and forever be me. 

-Pandaish