Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
You’re just rough enough
To make me tremble, and squeal,
And this delights you.

Make me helpless, Take
Everything you want, push me
Facedown, hold me fast.

Desire, raging fire,
Clothes rip, teeth nip, you devour,
Merciless master.
Apparently, 'Desire' and 'Fire' can be either two or one syllables, handy!
There are two
But should be three.
Little he? Little she?
I never knew.
Sometimes it catches me,
A scent of a memory
Taking me back to those first months of joy...
Little girl? Little boy?
I wrote you a journal
Charting happiness and hopes
Dashed in moments
By a still and silent screen,
And a heart wrought silent scream.
The pain has never left,
I still mourn
Ever bereft,
Little lady? Little man?
Where a mother first began.
If I could just be your little daydream,
Then that will make me happy,
Sharing a space
With all the other thoughts
In your beautiful mind.
Homing beacon lips
Your aim is true, this swift kiss
Fated not to miss.
Warm sunset welcomes
Flirtatious night, she dallies
On the edge, darkly.
Painful, purple, bruised
A turbulent sky groans, weeps,
Empties and renews.
I see, I see
That you have brought a box, for me.
It is so very small.

My heart, my heart, will fall apart
In such a joyless space.
In such a cold, dark place.

I am frightened of your box.
I will not
Sit inside and rot.
Next page