In memory,the despised lepidoptera.
Wings ripped in three.
Shreds of vanished memory.
Flies on ripped silent wings no more.
Carried on a breeze of tears.
On wings so sore.
Only the breeze can fly.
Before the ripping of the wings.
Was once sweet symmetry.
A waste of years of plentiful wishes.
In expectation excited.
Fed fire with fire.
Long since smouldered.
Flaming desire tragic.
The sorcery dispersed.
The heart of broken magic.
Should the hate crack on.
Smash not the crystal casket.
In which the lady sleeps.
Eternally weeps in silence.
Cost of lost love.
Mourns the cost.
Of love forgot.
While sweet angel sleeps!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Maintaining that faux image.
Live up to society's expectations.
Have sex and be damned.
Don't have sex, but act like you do.
The boys set the bar,
We want to reach it.
We wear make-up because it will
Make us pretty.
We dress sexy because it will
Make us hot.
We want to have sex because it will
Make us normal.
Does pop culture have the right to
Tell us what's normal?
If we do not measure up, then
We will put on a show if we have to.
We hope we look approachable so
Then boys will talk to us.
But we have to say no and stay pure so
Then boys will want us.
We are supposed to understand the
Mixed signals and popular beliefs.
We must ignore our morals, yet claim they
Are what we live by.
Pornorgraphy, 'Girls Gone Wild', and risque magazines all tell us that
Guys want us to be a certain way.
We are supposed to turn ourselves into
What they want,
And accept that that
Is all that matters.
coy verbal foreplay
tastefully twisting two tongues
risque rhythm ... breathe
your arms-the thorns of my body so strategically placed;
protecting my vulnerable frame
your lips akin to petals; kiss tender 'n eager
every breath's aura so congenial
your support resembling stem to strengthen and meddle me straight,
yet staying amply meek
your faith is purely fervent and keeps you veraciously planted- just as strong roots
your charming quirks protrude similar to leaves
distributed throughout; nothing shy of perfect
your bold personae is exclusive;
a risqué hue of disposition-
my darling rose
Not for the risque factor, only for the simple fact that
I only want you inside one single part of me
and it's sure as hell not my heart.
Don't look me in the eyes.
Don't look me in the eyes.
Some call it crazy
Some say it's sick
But I think it's freedom
The pain is fierce but quick
Some say that it's a sin
Just a little too risqué
But it helps release the pain
That I go through every day
The blade is sharp and cold
As it runs across my skin
Leaving me to ponder
How deep I cut in
The chill running down my spine
Makes me feel at ease
I no longer feel like a coward
Fucking up with every breath I breathe
But some days I want to stop
Feeling like everything's wrong
Trying to let go of the blade
Sometimes I can but not for long
It;s like I'm addicted to the pain
The feeling taking refuge in my veins
Leaving me feeling confused and alone
Wiping at the tears that seem to be stained
Burned into my skin forever
Becoming a part that I cannot escape
Sometimes I just want to hurt all over
To cream at the top of my lungs 'til they break
I want to escape from my memories
They're taking over me
Why can't I just rest
Why can't they let me be
I just want to be free.
When midnight has rolled over on the clock
My mind starts to wander:
Should I write in risqué tones
Where lock and key don't only hold secrets
Or should I pen true horrors
From the stories thrust upon me with ruin
Should I share my best-kept secrets
Like trying to explain why the city haunts me every day
When all the ink has smeared and dried
Am I satisfied?
A kiss on the neck, a nibble on the lobe, a midday sex text, by a promise of deep console.
The wholeness of my breasts, where your fingertips rest
A quick dip into the abyss-
I want them bound.
I want you motionless as I kiss my expedition down...
Your deep abyss, I can give you my answer, in depth, solely for your bliss, but let's go back to square one, your happiness starts with my tongue, subtle licks followed by the patter of my lips, no longer free are my ankles, as I submit to you my wrists, knowing all along what turns you on is the throbbing nature that has over taken my pen,-is it you its yearning for?
Two inches more
and I shall welcome you inside the entrance of my esophageal door
how impolite would I be without offering a tour?
Let us slip down the walls until we reach the pits of the floor of my
-you've been here before-
I want to flood the shores of your beaches before the swimmers reach their destiny
You get the best of me.
You invest in me.
If I unbind you, will you stay next to me?
The waves of lost control pulsating across your face...
you need me
I free you from your ties.
My thighs slide apart wider and wider...
I wade in the tides of your eyes...
Your thighs wider, as my lips come near, instead of my hips your grips around my ears, as I whisper sweet nothings to lips with no ears, but wait as I pause to give you no break, I slip two fingers to let my tongue escape beyond boundaries unknown.
scratch, bite then slap. Now hush, as flip you over, to pull your hair exhilarating your sensations to come over and over. Now both dripping wet, will you invite me in, it's only chocolate, an aphrodisiac, or a nemphos best friend.
Slip and slide when you dip in me
Every time I'm still surprised at just how fulfilling you are.
The ride is thrilling
Abiding the hills of my breasts to will their weight
-The sound of your shallow breath-
At which which you'll drown
Submerging great lengths beneath the surface of my sea
You instill great strength
When you're lying beneath me
It feels like freedom.
To be inside you, and underneath, in control of your heart to my beat. Hands occupied, full grasped, stroking every inch of your fantass-tick tock, unwind your inner time clock with my cock, as I roll my hips, tightening is your handless grip, wet, don't slip, climatic joy as my tip finds your clit.
Your cock is the beast
On my deceased beauty.
Really and Truly
I can not fully grip the grasp of the thought of my fantastic tick tock
Blown off the clock
-rock solid cock-
No man before has coerced me to come-
You have me at a loss to think
Sentences spilling in hologram ink
It's such a quick motion, blink, rewet, now you have my full devotion, to divulge into your mind of the nature of what's been created by my subtle erotic notions, or a blunt hint, which allows me to explore more with deeper extent, long melodic notes, of your deep breaths that hum along my throat,
as I stroke,
I've physically exhausted you mentally by sensually exciting your frontal lobe.
*side note* -we have never been intimate, never held any type of relations. It is the pure imagination of the mind that allows dreams and fantasies to come alive.
risque thoughts inhabit my mind
as she steps back and forth across the threshold
nubile twenty something hippy dreadlock girl
such a lovely persona
and moist inked beauty of form
she shouts my poem in the parking garage at four am
the echoes add integrity to it she laughs
my girl takes her in our bed
and shows her some integrity
i would so willfully indulge
but i know that such a creature is
the kind i could come to love with true deep feeling far too easily
and i dare not such misadventure
i am so drawn in by her golden patchouli locks
her fine line inked breast
her laughing gentle eyes
i tell my girl
this interloper of her treasures must depart
in the morning
she is unhappy but agrees
i sleep on the floor
waking to my happy home restored
Black Soul Baby!
I played in blue,
I'm back in black,
He is a phantom,
Skids down razor blades,
Suited and booted,
Tied up in chains,
Remains of the day,
Call of the wild,
Echoes of everything,
A shadow passes,
Trapped in locked vaults,
Imprisoned in vague suffocation of breathlessness,
More excitement he creates from his chasm,
As each day conspires in new writes,
Love is my black soul baby!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)