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She turned over in her sleep
but she could not
she just could not push past the hard body behind her
then she remembered where she was and smiled.
he still had his hand around her
she tried to turn and peep at him
he breathed peacefully in his sleep
but even then ,
he still remembered to hold her tighter
he adjusted his position and re-aligned his body with hers.
to pull her closer into him
as though just holding her was not enough
his alarm sounded the first time
and sadness swept over her
the moment had ended, but she was wrong
over and over, his alarm sounded
but he constantly turned to put it off and held her closer
the smile on her face was as though it was painted on her
consistent and not leaving
just like her heart bit and the pulsing behind her
the sun rays kept passing through the curtain
the hours went by
she felt hot, but couldn't move
that was their story.

And that was enough.
First poem in the about us series.
 Apr 2018 GoldenGrimm
Haylin
Was I the second choice?
Am I just second best?
Things didn't work with the first,
So you moved on to the next.
I can't help but think,
You're still in love with her.
Everything's so confusing,
Why can't it just be clear?
This game of back and forth,
Is tearing me apart,
But because I love you,
I'll just wait for you to break my heart.
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
Baylee Kaye
spinning colours.
flashing lights.
pounding music.
rooms too bright.

tucked away amidst the dawn,
he took a drag on Mary Jane,
coating her in liquor rain,
as he thought of thought of lustful times forgone.

he sat the pill right on his tongue,
and watched it melt away.
he closed his eyes and swallowed vulgarly,
for there was no time to be a saint this day.

he hid within an acid storm.
and his promises were holy,
when he watched the load drip down slowly.
for the psychedelic pleasure held him warm.
this poem is lowkey all about drugs but I’m sure you can infer that. can you guess them? also, I DO NOT partake in these substances!
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
Hilary
No I cannot be your friend,
That’s not how our story started or how we did end.
We fell in love and walked on clouds, we danced and laughed and stood together proud.
You told me you loved me every day but now it is gone.
Like rain stops play.

No I cannot be your friend.
You gave that up when on lazy days you’d rather be alone and say,
"I’m too tired to go out today.”
You gave that up when all the world could see
the fading love and falling leaves.

You lost your right that fateful day to ever have me as your friend.
When I could no longer stand the pain of feeling low and small and plain.
I couldn’t share my thoughts with you, they got stuck inside my chest like glue.
All this time I’ve had to mourn; the loss, the hurt, the shame, the scorn.

And now you tell me how much you miss me!
How not knowing how I am or what I'm doing is driving you crazy!
Sending cheery notes and wanting to see me,
As if you are a long lost friend but that's not the case
And not helping me mend.

I can’t share with you in your happiness at meeting someone new
or silly jokes or brand new shoes.
I can’t share with you when I feel sad coz you’re the one who broke me bad.

I’m sorry darling, please forgive me
But I really cannot be your friend.
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
John Updike
She must have been kicked unseen or brushed by a car.
Too young to know much, she was beginning to learn
To use the newspapers spread on the kitchen floor
And to win, wetting there, the words, "Good dog! Good dog!"

We thought her shy malaise was a shot reaction.
The autopsy disclosed a rupture in her liver.
As we teased her with play, blood was filling her skin
And her heart was learning to lie down forever.

Monday morning, as the children were noisily fed
And sent to school, she crawled beneath the youngest's bed.
We found her twisted and limp but still alive.
In the car to the vet's, on my lap, she tried

To bite my hand and died. I stroked her warm fur
And my wife called in a voice imperious with tears.
Though surrounded by love that would have upheld her,
Nevertheless she sank and, stiffening, disappeared.

Back home, we found that in the night her frame,
Drawing near to dissolution, had endured the shame
Of diarrhoea and had dragged across the floor
To a newspaper carelessly left there.  Good dog.
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
Mike Essig
she firmly
runs her
wet hand
up and down
down and up
its slippery
length

before placing
the spatula
on the cloth
to dry

  ~mce
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
skyler
i'm tired of writing
or tired of living

either way
nothing sounds right
fits right
feels right

it's all
choppy sentences
choppy breaths
all not good enough
all just a mess

s.s
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
Styles
Born to enter
swollen with desire
thirsty for pleasure
devoted to nature
primal instinct seeking
resounding tenderness
when embraced
resonates heat.
 Mar 2018 GoldenGrimm
Styles
He watched pleasure enter her eyes
Sensations of pleasure leaving her mesmerized
Sweet screams, wet dreams, message disguised
Moans escape as bodies magnetized
his hands glued to her thighs
as she sighs
Fingers soaked in wet; juicy juices drip
tongue eclipsing glistening lip; slow licks
Her body, his vessel; selfish
Serving each other relentless
Breathes escaping each other
Tangled together, bodies ravished
Every morsel of one another sandwiched
Finger, Licking, Good.
~Delicious~
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