there was one night
i remember particularly


when the candles were lit

on the bedside table
and in my soul


i was on fire

for you


there were hours of
my lips against yours



hot warmth of your back
warming my palms

I couldn't believe that
your body
was inside
of my body.

we were one person.

the skin and the smell
of your sweat

a constant reminder of our nakedness
wow


breathtaking
wetness
of everything


peeking at
our *******
we both looked down
you pulled out
wet from me

wet like everything we knew

like the lake that we swam naked in
or the river
where i first thought

"love"

is what this is.


we looked down
and the hair
sticking to my legs
from the delicious sweet muskiness

shimmering

the sweat on my body was not yours
it was not mine

it was Ours

for hours

the rain begins first
                                     -timid

and the drops make no sound but
they are tiny bombs destroying tiny
countries destroying tinier cities and
even tinier
us as we
walk
                                     -unsuspecting

and kiss the cement with our
arrogance

If anyone were to ask me,
for some reason,
when was the last time
I was touched by someone
who loves me.
The answer would be simple.

                                      Never.

But if they were to ask
perhaps,
when was the last time
I was touched by someone
with nothing but empty,
primal lust
I would sadly have to admit
                                    
                      ­                 Last week.

Even stranger,
if they were to ask,
when was the last time
that I was left
feeling worthless
and incapable of normalcy.
There would be no answer
because it's
                                       Constant.



But they won't ask.
So I'll tell them anyway.

I’ve lost you beneath my words, my dear,
As similes drown your voice.
I’ve murdered you with metaphors,
You left me with no choice.

I’ve remembered you with language,
As I recreate what you never said.
I’ve painted you with prose, alas,
Holding you captive in my head.

I’ve carved you out of daydreams,
By whittling away at the tangible.
Everything is always what it seems,
As long as it is deemed manageable.

Oh, I’ve set free you’re emotions,
And the feelings which you’ve evoked.
By drowning you in the ocean,
Of the language which you provoke.

© Meka Boyle

Life's ****** up
Our generation's biggest concern is filling up that red cup
Cuz we only speak out when we're getting served but we're fed up
We're trippin over our wishes cuz we were told to keep our heads up
Caught up with superstitions cuz we ran out of good luck
We're stuck inside a cage built up by satisfaction
Our conscious swallowed the key to the lock, call it desperate to a fraction
Yeah our thoughts are divided, our priorities are split
Too busy calculating how to not give a ****
We're embedded with the mindset that you can't lose if you quit
Our opinions sold out yeah we're morally ******
Cuz going with the flow garuntees open doors
So give in to your social addictions
Swallow it down with a smile and call it moral affliction
Don't worry about the obvious contradictions
How you feel and what's real only increases the friction