i want to write
but alas not tonight
for i strain and fight
words deprived of flight
feel it an act of spite
for i wondered if you were alright
darkness now too bright
turn out the light
goodnight
>.<
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
woke up this morning seeing clips
stale taste of *** on my lips
just a few more ***** sips
listening to the lines and scripts
trying to remember the feel of his hips
exploring the swells and dips
reliving the sin feels like whips
his eyes on me as he watched me strip
each layer of clothing slips
and with each ****** my breath rips
from my lungs with a heartbeat, slips,
white knuckled headboard grips
in the sweat passion drips
look around desperate the room tips
the needle on the record skips
i'm losing the game you have my chips
bottoming out starting to trip
alas,
pretty boys sink ships
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:32 AM UTC
contumacious imagery,
amorous intensity,
prostitution of the heart,
beating off the chart.
a brush of fingertips,
aching for the whisper of lips,
quicksand stare,
vulnerable and bare.
delicate pusillanimity,
accenting my pulmonary timidity
,hemorrhage of thought,
words of devotion wrought.
closure to desperation,
surrendering upon inclination,
innocence tainted by pain,
tears cleverly disguised as rain.
intoxicating appetite for sensation,
hesitation forcing isolation,
my attatchment never satiated,
my soul emaciated.
jilted girl am i,
you are the apple of my eye,
with you i am besot,
,my adoration not forgot.
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:32 AM UTC
there's one crow left
this side of the ******
i'm the child with no socks and shoes
dancing delirious in a field of sunflowers
spinning in an industrial jungle
my arms wrapped around yours
like my hands on the monkey bars
the Indian magic wont heal this heart
can i drown in Valerian?
drunk on the missed sleep
your lips move at night
they spin tales of things long since past
i am the crow
singular
lonely
my broken oil drunk wings wont flap
you're crushing me
god the memories make me want to pull out my hair
the scars on your arm
speak volumes
i wish i could spin new ones
along my flesh
please my dear
lets not drag this out
lynch me quick
and i'll be the eternal child
in your grasp forever more
a secret romance
hidden in the back of my mind
deep in montauk...
god bless you my dear
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:31 AM UTC
there once was a peasant
who would come to walk a long road
on his way he took a rest settled down
he pulled an apple from his knapsack
and ate of its fruit
when finished he left only a core
and tossed it to the ground
he quickly commenced upon his way...
with what was left of itself
the apple bore life to the two tiny seeds left within
they sprouted and took root
and grew into two magnificent trees
they needn't be tended by the peasant
his new life made little matter to these them
the last efforts of that apple
gave rise to something great
god and mother earth tended these new trees
made their limbs sturdy no storm could bend them
they grew strong...
rushing to sew new oats
the peasant was quick to fail
the crops would yield no good unto him
the peasant would die hungry
and never taste of their success
this is what we get for being careless
casting off what we pay little mind to
but we all pay the price
some of us
pay dearly
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:29 AM UTC