And he stands there.
Waits.
Left
bereft.
Disbelieving his dream
his
nightmare; blinks
blinks…thinks.
Thinks!
No tears; dry. Too dry    to try    to
cry.
Scratchy; hoarse
as his heart; beats.
Beats!
Bleats.
Empty             space.

Blank       bed.
Gone; no more – no
sight to see - no
words…
to speak.
Quiet.
Tranquil.
LOUD.
DEAFENING!

Head-splitting.

And he stands there.

©pofacedpoetry (2018) Billy Reynard-Bowness – all rights reserved

Solitude, oh solitude!
Why are you still around?
Solitude, my loyal friend,
our time now needs to end.
Home is waiting for me.

Solitude, my loyal friend,
here I am again with you,
too weak to achieve
the one thing that I seek.

Solitude, oh solitude!
Why is it so hard?
So afraid to be hurt
I just can't drop my guard.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

One time, Monopoly got ******
Of all the board games, not the one you’d expect to get x rated
Hungry Hippos seems more ******
Or holdem, or Don’t Wake Daddy
Although that one would be pretty ****** up
But anything’s ****** when you have a woman like that as admin
She’ll turn morning cartoons into a pornhub episode
She hass a vendetta against the boring normal
The color of her hair matched the fire in her eyes
The curves of her hips matched the fury that moved them
As ruthless as she was beautiful
Yet her armor was breaking, I could see many dents and cracks
But she brushed it off, and just looked at me with a sinister face
Her fingers danced across the board
Her body moved to the music in the background
She’d lick her fingers before grabbing a card
Everything she did was planned
She knew I was watching
I knew she was in control
She’d lean over the table to expose beneath her shirt
And if her piece, ended up near my end of the board?
The torture began
And she started dancing around my mind
Her *** was center stage
Her body filled with my fantasies
I was her leftover toy
And she loved treating me like a board game
Something to toss around for fun
Her sinister intentions made my face red
I was an experiment that she treated like pre funding
I was not a person, I was a subject
Her target, her new trophie
She was clearly into abuse
I don’t judge fantasies, but dayum
I melted in her hand
She turned it up to eleven
I stopped paying attention to the game
And she started winning
“I own that property, now you owe me something…”
I look at her dumbfounded
Her leg brushes mine, and she reveals a ***** little secret
Something she’s not wearing underneath
I hear her mom doing dishes in the kitchen
I look at her with doubt
She smiles like a movie villain
And bites her tongue with evil excitement
She dances on my tongue like champagne bubbles
Her fingers dance like a spider across my leg
And it doesn’t even creep me out
She uses her tongue like a toothbrush
She grabs me so hard I lose my breath
Forces my hands onto her
I hear her mother’s footsteps
“You can’t be serious…” I whisper
“It’s more fun this way” she giggles gleefully
She pulls away just as her mother enters the room
She tells her mom we have to leave for a study group
We leave the game unfinished
She grabs the stick shift with her hand, and my ear with her teeth
She whispers, “Let’s get crazy tonight…”