BML
BML
May 15, 2014

A boy once said
You're hot.
But to be honest...
My shit is also hot.
You call it a compliment
I call it shittery.

When words attain your beauty,
It will be my duty,
To call your face so hot,
Because my words withhold.

#alive   #beautiful   #boy   #beauty   #fuck   #hot   #honest   #fucking   #duty  
yogee
yogee
Mar 27, 2014

i'm not soulless;
i actually feel like my soul is not being held by a body.
like my soul is flying around in free;
but i do not feel safety.

i'm bodyless;
whirling around in the wind,
like a particle of dust
with no weight
but still tough.

i am just a soul;
without a beating heart
with no lungs,
and no blood to be pumped.

y.m

yogee
yogee
Jul 11, 2014

autumn
as the flowers bloomed white
my heart did the same
as her eyes turned into a small, curved line.

autumn
as her fingers grazed against my hand
static charges were exchanged
and i felt like i just left land.

autumn
as the car kept the left lane
she finally told me that
jane, was her name.

and all this while,
i thought i'd expect the 4 seasons
because she had it all,
and she made me feel different stages of pleasure.

hi

You gently fuck a female goat ~
you got to ram the males
to make any progress.

#gay   #fuck   #slam   #kid   #fucking   #ass   #trending   #ram   #knock   #lew   #billy   #beryldov   #poke   #bestiality   #thrust   #goat   #batter   #buck  

Good poetry's like good lovemaking:
you hold back...
then explode.

Tantric sex
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neotantra#Tantric_sexuality
.
p knives that penetrate into your whole fucking soul when the other actually says it th
yogee
yogee
Jun 2, 2014

Here's the truth:

Love can't be recognized in a time span of two, to five minutes.
It's not as easy as you may or may not think.
Love has to be felt by one.
All parts of the body are significant to feeling love, it's not just the heart.
You may think the heart reacts most to love;
But it's mostly the body.
It's always the body, showing you signs.
Your fingers that make you instantly reply a text message.
Your stomach that makes it seem like you run a butterfly field in there.
Your knees that wobbles at the sight of the other walking toward you.
Your eyes & head that ache after a night of silent cries under the sheets.

Other than that..
The sparks you feel at each contact.
Fireworks everywhere during each kiss!
The sharp knives that penetrate into your whole fucking soul when the other actually says it the end,
that's where you gotta stand and say;
"I fucking love you, you have to stay."

Man, that's love. And how you feel it.

y.m

nothing
i was slicing my FUCKING wrists open because of what you did to
RedWritingHood
RedWritingHood
Dec 3, 2014

i was slicing my FUCKING wrists open because of what you did to me
what you made me
i was smashing my FUCKING head against cement walls and crying and thrashing and screaming for nights on end
endless turmoil that removed my ability to FUCKING feel

...and you
you were bragging to your friends
took her anal virginity
on the floor of her father's (the pastor's) house
while he was upstairs sleeping
she begs for my cock in her mouth
for me to blow all over her face
i finally fully corrupted my christian girlfriend
you said
FUCK waiting she practically jumped on my dick

you FUCKING bragged while i FUCKING tried to kill myself
while i FUCKING watched blood leak out of my FUCKING body
while i FUCKING pressed lit FUCKING matches into my wrist
you
FUCKING
bragged
that you
FUCKED ME.

and now, FUCK YOU
Birdland
Birdland
Dec 31, 2014

Fuck you,








Fuck me.

Fuck it.
I want to show you that I'm fucking ok without you
Lacie Kay
Lacie Kay
Sep 27, 2014

I want to show you that I'm fucking ok without you
I want to fuck you and not feel anything
I want you to feel me and feel everything

How ironic that it is the opposite

Fucking is something you try to make lovely,
Kennedy Reyanne
Kennedy Reyanne
Oct 28, 2013

Fucking is something you try to make lovely,
something you try to embroider in softness
and paint with blush.
You try to make it moldable, liquid. But it is
rock hard to the touch and stone solid on
the tongue. And you know it. It chokes you up,
suffocates you so you can’t breathe. And it
tastes like sour milk. And you like it.
But is it so wrong to want this? The burning vodka
tango? The cinnamon fire whiskey haziness of it?
The muck and the mess.
You make believe that fucking will fill you up, but
it won’t. It’ll occupy a cavity dripping with carnality
and hold it captive for half an hour, if you’re so lucky.
It’ll press into the sticky parts of you and prod into the
core of you.
You’ll pretend it lights up your senses, but it doesn’t.
You’ll taste nothing but the cranberry chaser and
you’ll feel nothing but the sweat and hear nothing
but the sound of you faking enjoyment.
You’ll try to make it poetic,
but fuck it.
It’s not.
And you know it.
And you hate it.
But if we’re being honest, it is raw and gory and
disgusting and animalistic: a cock crowing when
the sun peaks. Instinctual. Physical.
You’ll tell yourself you’re in love, you’re making
a connection; mind, body, soul.
But the only thing he’s thinking is,
“fuck this feels good”
and his body is doing too much for his soul
to speak up. And the only link you share in
this bed sheeted frenzy is his key in your
chastity belt, the one you didn’t even lock.
Oopsie, whoopsie, dear me.
Fuck that.
You wanted it just as bad. What is fucking to him?
Your pelvis kissing his, making him pant a little harder.
You’ll tell yourself this is making love and that he’ll
make you breakfast in the morning because he wants to.
But, if we’re being honest (and we are) he feels obliged
because you let him fuck you,
and this plate of pancakes is just a tasty way
of saying, “thanks for the workout.”

 
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