The Sub Who Lost His Collar

He touched his neck—so bare, so cold,
No leather clasp, no buckle bold.
The weight was gone, the mark had faded,
A life once bright, now dim and jaded.

He knelt alone where once she stood,
Where once her whispers warmed his blood.
Her hand, her touch, her steady reign—
All vanished now, just ghostly pain.

The world feels vast, too loud, too free,
Unbound, unclaimed, just lost at sea.
No rules to hold, no gaze to please,
Just endless space and shaking knees.

He grips the chain that once was tight,
The symbol of his heart’s delight.
A piece of steel, now dull and worn,
A love once fierce, now ripped and torn.

Was he too weak? Was he too much?
Did she grow tired of his touch?
Or did she leave for reasons deep,
A truth too dark for him to keep?

He sighs, he waits, he dares to hope,
But learns, in time, a way to cope.
For though his collar’s gone, it seems,
The bond still lingers in his dreams.

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