I bet I could stretch
Like you've never seen before
With the crook of my finger
And a wink, let the games begin
You want to struggle
My little **** toy?
Ah ah ah, let's tie these hands
Behind your back
Don't get any ideas
Pet
Obey me, lie on your belly
Crush your head into the pillow
Cringe and squirm, please
Let me just, strap this on
Not listening, hm?
I have other things
Leather, that will leave marks
On your tender, innocent flesh
Let my fingers coil
Make it harder to breathe
Force you down
By a pull of your hair
I'm going to be an animal
And you will be the prey
I will feast on you
I will nibble you
Bite you into submission
Pinch and squeeze
Smack and tease
Say please
I will go on
Long after you thought
To say no, until
All you want is
More, more, more
I will chew through you
I will dominate you
I dare you to struggle
My little **** toy
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
Zoning in
Zoning out
Spacing into
Instinctual altruism
A divided reality
Obliging my death storm cemetery
This ritual madness; so intriguing
It leaves personality to the grasp of ambiguity
Immaterial realm of the fourth scenes unseen
While docile, poisoned by this vial of vile mistrials
I remain a ghost
Unseen
Mirroring black
Shadowed like a ****** mess
Stop this caress
Fading in
Fading out.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
She had an option now
Once a goal, fed until wings spread until flight took until she lost the town
Until shot down
She had an option now, a full fledged choice, all teeth and silence
In the wake of her indecision grew envy, which looks like a giant mosquito, if you believe in giants
Before we go towards sore mode and mope so hopelessly over "wrote poetry", let us take time to give the mosquito a little appreciation
Unlike choice, envy is a toothless ******* and instead pokes and prods and leaves an undesirable little welt
But like choice, envy hovers
Waiting
She slept on cardboard that night
That night in particular was rather dreary, grey and wet
Kicked out of her home, alone so closed and prone to no hope
She dove to floor and groped dope to erode her dome
Black
She hit that stash and sat back happy in mad hat fantasies
Mad hat had-to-be's and lap dance reveries she tapped untapped man, she gagged for bags and haggled deep
Back then, she was a pariah,
She floated and she owned it, turned around and wrote it and low and behold she sold it, and now she's bold poet
Funny how the world wants you when you don't need it
Funny how a girl flaunts too, for the temporary feeling
We swat bugs who want a fix
But when they're butterflies...
They flutter by
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
Kissed her here, kissed her there...
...Kissed that girl everywhere
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
Self proclaimed
Perfect perception
Pedantic hands
Mary Meticulous
Sally scrupulous
Insipid ideals
Foolish followings
Deep narcissism
Shallow words
Broken pedestal
Fake smile
Forced laugh
Misery's finest
Sentenced silence
Weak eyelids
Mind violence
Red iris
Scribbled papyrus
Fleeting joy
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
There would be no way
To determine it's course
Unshackled
Love, be it called
Screaming without a motive
Dripping in tears
Unrivaled in fear
Underfoot lies hate
Decaying in self deprecating
Beauty
A book
So misjudged
By it's cover
Glorious, and oh
So glorious love
To be set upon
By flights of fancy
Gold, lace and all
To be a spectacle
A beacon of the triumph
Of good over evil
Light over dark
Yin over Yang
Yang over Yin?
Silly ponderous mind
Queer that one
Would meander
Outside the box
Do not forget that poetry
Is only here to
Accommodate your
Flair
Perhaps I
Am the box
To think
Of boxes
Perfect little squares
Perfect exhibits
Of a mistrial
To wander
Look away
To see
To think of subjection
To think...
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
I left my hand print
On a glass door this morning
And thought nothing of it
Just like your mom smoked crack
Like nothing of it
Or your dad walked out
To avoid the fiscal cliff
Of raising you
I left a hand print
Thinking nothing of Jared
The window wiper
Who makes half as much as I do
With twice as much
To lose
My existence to him
Is the effort he takes to hunch
And clean up my disrespect
Jared is seventy two
And has back problems
From "The War"
His wife is dying of cancer
And he stays late
To wipe away
My inconvenience
Jared will never know my name
I will never know Jared's name
Jared will never understand
Why some people
Can't just use the **** handle
I will never understand
How my daily actions effect everyone
Thinking nothing of it
Jared will work late
I will leave hand prints
But someday
I will wear shoes
Similar to Jared's
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
If her hair was like seaweed
Pulling me into those surfing blue eyes
I would forever have sailed
Upon the waves of her sadness,
Dripping tears into her
Lonely waters
She spoke to me like
A mother speaks to her baby
Soft, sweet and gentle
A pillow of kisses and compliments
Smiling
I was her lover
We had found a pretty paradise
Anchored and secure arm in arm
Rich in happiness
Hand in hand
Dancing in the rain
Just as simply as
We mistook temporary as forever
The power of loss spread it's
Feared wings
For distance accompanies all
Reconciliation
Ah, but to dwell within a hell
Self created shell of hindsight
Even harder to
Move forward from the
Comfortable bed
The silent room
The touch-less relapse
Of memory addiction
The daydream fix
Of a what-if ******
The foot planted firm
Atop excuses
Atop excuses
Atop good excuses
Eventually, get over it
Becomes a favorite phrase
As I grow bitter
Suppressed
Full of emotional
Pressure
And now
I wait for something to come
No contingency plan
For the most lazy cause of action
Just dizziness
Windowpanes to reflect my futile
searching eyes
Rain, to pitter patter a lost voice
away
And a dreamy nap
May I stay here
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
I often digress that I
Am sick and tired of all you poets
With all your literal genius
The hypocrisy is mine
I must say, that I;
against all grain, have established
Individualism
Not synonymous
With hubris
For some time
I waded through the shallow
Darkness, seeking closure
All I found was me
Sitting in the corner
Alone
So I grabbed my hand, and said:
"You can rebel and yell music get tattoos kiss girls eat sweets and...
...love yourself"
And I believed me
Just another
Amateur poem
From the happiest girl
On the saddest world
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
As I'd imagine, would be eternal,
somewhat infinite
If such a pleasure existed
Would not all delve into wandering hunt?
Can finding be so easy
as to search something into existence?
Perhaps we are barred such by our existential
inferiority that even perceptions of secluded wonders escape
our shorthanded inquisitions
As we linger in the potency of misdirection,
so closes the curtain that shields the unknown respite
Sans sleep
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC