emb268 - Hello Poetry

I could write erotica Words flushed with heat And lust A bare trace of plot Sliding through the lines like soft skin on silk sheets. I could paint pictures with sultry poses, long limbs entwined in a battle of flesh, pictures to bring a tingle, a shiver dancing across your skin. I could whisper salacious stories with my lips just above your ear, hot breath and a teasing lilt, testing the boundaries of self-control. I could pass along this poem, lay forth my cards, exposed provocatively on the table, making my intentions known.

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Jan 26, 2021

Jan 26, 2021 at 10:18 PM UTC

exploration of possibilities

I could write erotica Words flushed with heat And lust A bare trace of plot Sliding through the lines like soft skin on silk sheets. I could paint pictures with sultry poses, long limbs entwined in a battle of flesh, pictures to bring a tingle, a shiver dancing across your skin. I could whisper salacious stories with my lips just above your ear, hot breath and a teasing lilt, testing the boundaries of self-control. I could pass along this poem, lay forth my cards, exposed provocatively on the table, making my intentions known.

19

New perfume in the air, sweeter than I normally like the sweetness cannot erase the memory of that night. Beer music bodies drink music night bodies music drink you I can’t wear those clothes anymore, not the perfume, not the makeup. I want to forget it all, the slideshow that starts playing on repeat. I want to feel something, I feel numb. I want to cut, rid my skin of your memory and replace it with my own I want to stop eating, until the starvation clears me out, makes me new I want to eat everything, so I feel some semblance of full. I want to do something to forget that time with you. Eyes follow me in the street, they’re not yours, but my body doesn’t care heart quickens, breath shakes, I am afraid. Anger replaces fear, bottled up until I just want to scream LEAVE ME ALONE I walk to the school, to the market, and I don’t dress up for you My homework sits out but I can’t do it today, maybe tomorrow, I said that yesterday but the numbness won’t go away, I feel detached, uncaring. I need to cry, to break things, to heal and yet I’m stuck in this chair, this one room. I feel dead inside, remind myself to eat, to drink water, to sleep, to move. Sweet perfumes lingers in the air, begging me to start over, to forget, to walk away. But with it on, I still think of you.

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Nov 20, 2020

Nov 20, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC

demons aren't just in dreams

New perfume in the air, sweeter than I normally like the sweetness cannot erase the memory of that night. Beer music bodies drink music night bodies music drink you I can’t wear those clothes anymore, not the perfume, not the makeup. I want to forget it all, the slideshow that starts playing on repeat. I want to feel something, I feel numb. I want to cut, rid my skin of your memory and replace it with my own I want to stop eating, until the starvation clears me out, makes me new I want to eat everything, so I feel some semblance of full. I want to do something to forget that time with you. Eyes follow me in the street, they’re not yours, but my body doesn’t care heart quickens, breath shakes, I am afraid. Anger replaces fear, bottled up until I just want to scream LEAVE ME ALONE I walk to the school, to the market, and I don’t dress up for you My homework sits out but I can’t do it today, maybe tomorrow, I said that yesterday but the numbness won’t go away, I feel detached, uncaring. I need to cry, to break things, to heal and yet I’m stuck in this chair, this one room. I feel dead inside, remind myself to eat, to drink water, to sleep, to move. Sweet perfumes lingers in the air, begging me to start over, to forget, to walk away. But with it on, I still think of you.

23

wine, in perfect measure, is a bridge from tortured mind to blank page. Too little and the words get stuck in my fingers. Flowing too freely, and I am heavy, lost to the power of thought. wine, my translator divine, I am set free to speak my truth and fall back, satisfied.

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Nov 18, 2020

Nov 18, 2020 at 1:48 PM UTC

a perfect balance

wine, in perfect measure, is a bridge from tortured mind to blank page. Too little and the words get stuck in my fingers. Flowing too freely, and I am heavy, lost to the power of thought. wine, my translator divine, I am set free to speak my truth and fall back, satisfied.

12

Sometimes I feel poetic when I’m really just in pain. I write to get it out, like a soothing fall of rain. My words have been my safety a way to keep things clear to work through dark emotions and drive away the fear. Here is where I’m safe where I can move through it all and that’s how I make progress no matter how small.

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Nov 15, 2020

Nov 15, 2020 at 11:27 AM UTC

soothe my soul

Sometimes I feel poetic when I’m really just in pain. I write to get it out, like a soothing fall of rain. My words have been my safety a way to keep things clear to work through dark emotions and drive away the fear. Here is where I’m safe where I can move through it all and that’s how I make progress no matter how small.

12

it’s a blatant lie, deception in the smoothness of its texture, empty of flavor, a “substitute” for chocolate, though it doesn’t come close. It’s the cake of choice for romantics, the red of passion encased in sweetness. red and white, passion and purity, a walking contradiction, done up with sprinkles.

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Nov 13, 2020

Nov 13, 2020 at 8:32 PM UTC

Why does red velvet cake exist?

it’s a blatant lie, deception in the smoothness of its texture, empty of flavor, a “substitute” for chocolate, though it doesn’t come close. It’s the cake of choice for romantics, the red of passion encased in sweetness. red and white, passion and purity, a walking contradiction, done up with sprinkles.

12

kiss me to draw out the poison of those who came before. Run your fingers on my skin to erase greedy hands and stolen strokes. Possess my body, entrance me with your mouth, with hungry lips and burning hands. I’ll rise to meet you, let my skin meld to yours, until we’re bound together to meet the ugliness of the world.

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Nov 11, 2020

Nov 11, 2020 at 11:46 AM UTC

intoxicate my senses and overwhelm past pain

kiss me to draw out the poison of those who came before. Run your fingers on my skin to erase greedy hands and stolen strokes. Possess my body, entrance me with your mouth, with hungry lips and burning hands. I’ll rise to meet you, let my skin meld to yours, until we’re bound together to meet the ugliness of the world.

11

haughty and hateful or pitilessly played, head freed from embroidered shoulders, her heart beat, heavy, behind corseted layers. Temptress or model maiden, she fell just the same. The jewel in a king’s crown, cast away for the next shining stone.

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Nov 8, 2020

Nov 8, 2020 at 2:46 PM UTC

B for Boleyn

haughty and hateful or pitilessly played, head freed from embroidered shoulders, her heart beat, heavy, behind corseted layers. Temptress or model maiden, she fell just the same. The jewel in a king’s crown, cast away for the next shining stone.

7

You know what they say about bleeding hearts. Should’ve walled it in, stitched it up from the start. Shouldn’t be such a basket case carry worry and pain in every line of your face. Should’ve walked upright line your eyes, keep your smile light. Lock your heart inside and if it leaks, be sure to pin a smile, on your cheeks.

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Oct 30, 2020

Oct 30, 2020 at 11:49 AM UTC

I have practice at being okay.

You know what they say about bleeding hearts. Should’ve walled it in, stitched it up from the start. Shouldn’t be such a basket case carry worry and pain in every line of your face. Should’ve walked upright line your eyes, keep your smile light. Lock your heart inside and if it leaks, be sure to pin a smile, on your cheeks.

13

Some days I wake up from dreams unsure, if I am going to grow up to be a warrior or worrier.

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Oct 28, 2020

Oct 28, 2020 at 10:26 PM UTC

good morning anxiety, it’s me Emily