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Letters from the Edge of Tolerance

This is where I document life lived with CPTSD, ADHD, DID, OCD, abandonment trauma, rage, and the long term psychological consequences of instability. Not for sympathy. Not for inspiration. For examination.

I write about trauma the way a mechanic tears down an engine. Piece by piece. What broke. Why it broke. What it still does under stress.

You will find poems that bleed without asking to be saved. Essays that dissect ethical BDSM, power exchange, dominance, consent, and responsibility without romantic illusion. Reflections on betrayal, identity, dissociation, religion, rage, control, and the uncomfortable mathematics of trust.

This is not a healing space. It is an honest one.

I do not frame survival as beautiful. I frame it as necessary.

If you are looking for optimism, look elsewhere.

If you want unfiltered analysis from someone who has lived at the upper edge of tolerance for decades and still functions, read on.

Existence is not always a gift.

Sometimes it is a condition.
4 weeks ago. Saturday, January 31, 2026 at 8:24 PM

In the void of night's merciless hold,  

I'd bind your wrists with ropes of steel,  

Force you to kneel, make submission real,  

Collar your throat in leather cold.  

 

I'd whip your back with leather's bite,  

Lash after lash till welts arise,  

Watch tears stream from your pleading eyes,  

Ignite your pain in sadistic delight.  

 

With clamps I'd seize your tender peaks,  

Twist and pull till you gasp and writhe,  

Command your body, keep it alive,  

In chains of torment, no mercy seeks.  

 

I'd gag your mouth with silken vice,  

Muffle your screams as I claim control,  

Probe your limits, devour your soul,  

Break you down in dominance's price.  

 

Primal growls from my throat would rise,  

Like a beast in heat, I'd hunt your form,  

Pounce and pin in the raging storm,  

Claw your flesh under feral skies.  

 

I'd bite your thighs with savage teeth,  

Mark you deep as my prey divine,  

Snarl commands, make your will align,  

With instincts raw, no civilized sheath.  

 

Fingers like talons, I'd tear you open,  

Plunge into depths where shadows play,  

Force your surrender in primal fray,  

Harvest your howls till bonds are broken.  

 

I'd drag you crawling on hands and knees,  

Leash in hand, through the wild unknown,  

Whisper threats of the pain you've sown,  

Dominate till you beg on pleas.  

 

With hot wax dripping on quivering skin,  

Sealing your fate in fiery art,  

Blindfold your sight, conquer your heart,  

In BDSM's grip, let the ritual begin.  

 

O' the things I'd do, a primal throne,  

Fuck you bound in ecstasy's chain,  

Leave you bruised, marked by my reign,  

Owned forever, flesh and bone.  

 

In the aftermath of our savage rite,  

I'd cradle your broken, blissful frame,  

Whisper ownership, call you by name,  

Till dawn devours the endless night.

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