You come to me in hunger
preying on my flesh.
I nuzzle your weary feathers
Now they feel robust again
And fly you high to the sky.
I am not your food dear.

Come, tug at my rib cage-
reach inside and take yourself
away.

Baby I pray you find peace among the broken pieces of your mind.
That which you claim to be whole

I pray you never have to torture anyone's heart
To console your own tortured soul

I have stuck my love together with glistening tears
and bear you no ill will at all

Sweet baby of mine, I pray you heal
from the black pain you projected on me like nightfall

Be safe baby and I pray you find peace  
for in the cage of your heart there's a door to release.

By #TinaRSH

You cannot **** a dead man.
Nor can you break someone
who is already into pieces.
#TinaRSH

I am drenched
                  in you
            as you wash
  through my pores
I am quenched
in tsunami
as it pushes down
my door
I am splayed
to all four corners
exposed to your eye
My veins are frayed
from suffered hautings,
'Til you
rock my tender tide
My torso is taut
to meet liquid lips
all these *****,  
silky thoughts
controlling my hips
We share a
          rushing river language
speaking deftly in tongues
You penetrate my soul
as I breathe air into
your lungs
So take me on an
underwater journey
down the crash
of your shore
I want to drown
in this ocean
and come to life
with a roar

Morning is such a desperate lover.
How else could she make
you meet her if she didn't
steal your dreams at night?

No, poetry is not written in books
by scholars. It is etched upon
Lips that shape the sweetest murmurs
and bellow bare bitter truth
frantic as a madman, poetry
Held up with bra straps
and masked beneath an underwear
Hot, Succulent, lavish
Just that feminine, poetry
With all the morons who aim
to grasp it through stories
of a man and his lost love, poetry
is windswept hair and hips in motion
and twilight tears that flow like an ocean
poetry, with its complex simplicity
is a woman who reads bible in a *******
and wears bubblegum skirts to funerals
Tasted, embraced, kissed, licked, felt,poetry
can never be read..or understood.

Tina RSH