Choked up

When I said I was into choking, I didn’t mean it this way.

I was imagining a hand on my neck, your face inches away from mine.

Not your absence sucking the air out of my lungs. 

Not sitting on the couch alone, looking at the side where your body moulded the cushions in the shape of you. Sitting on the ground, on my knees, remembering how you promised you will always hold a fistful of my hair.

Never to be farther than an arm’s length away, you promised.

Now, the quietness chokes me better than you ever did.

I can’t take a single breath without my lungs burning. My unseeing eyes drown in tears that refuse to fall and my voice is nothing but a whimper as I fight for air.

My hands fist in my hair and pull, but strands fall between my fingers. I can’t do it like you. 

Day after day, you choke me as I’m more and more deprived of your presence.

But you know what? 

In the ocean of my tears, the lines of your face blur until the gaze that once warmed everything inside is only a shadow of a memory.

I still can’t breathe, crumpled on the floor, but the strength of your invisible pull slackens. 

My hair spills on the floor next to me as I gasp. There’s no one to tug at it, no one to smooth it after this difficult scene. There is only the void around me, funnelling the life out of me.

My open mouth has long forgotten how to moan with pleasure. Now it wheezes from the pain of being without you.


So familiar now it’s almost comforting. My hands will never leave me. My eyes will keep seeing what’s in front of me.

I close my mouth and lick my lips. They taste like sand. For some reason I thought they would still taste like you.

That’s okay. The valleys of your face have long since turned to a barren landscape, the time smoothing even the most jagged edges.

I forgive you as I close my eyes, letting the pooled tears fall free and wash away the last specks of your lingering touch.

My fingers touch my bare neck, feeling the pulse underneath my fingertips strong and sure.

Even after struggling to breathe for so long, I’m still here.

The grip of your choking absence eases. The blood rushes in my head, as always, flooding me with happy chemicals.

Damn, that was a good session. 

If I knew better, I would get up and move on. But I don’t, and I won’t.

I will do it all again just to feel the rush.

I just need a second to catch my breath.


Prompt used: Breath play

Copyright: Lainey Delaroque 2022






Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.