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Dezzie Hex Feb 2018
I crave you.

I wonder of your lips, tinted with kiss of rose,
and my mind traces from corner to cupid's bow.
Neither scent of swirling ocean or forest at dusk
can compare to the engulfing fumes of your musk.
My heart wastes on you with every sigh I draw--
Oh, but how I wish to hold you in my jaws.
Ah, I bite and tear and lick and caress!
I want to make such a mess of you.
Do your tastebuds scream for me too?
Should I save my appetite for you?
Is it a crime of passion to assume the sweat
on your skin is as sweet as  I imagine?
I confess, embarrassed, for my tongue slips
when I am near you, and my saliva drips
from my fangs in hunger--
May I pull you under me?

It is so hard to behave.
I cannot resist; thus, I crave.
Dezzie Hex Jan 2018
I am Emperor. I am Death.

All ye who challenge my reign over kingdom and kin
know not the true consequence of thy sins.
In flesh, I come bearing bountiful wealth and crown;
alas, in decay, I may claim nothing as my own.
Upon white steed I ride, demanding thy reverence,
for no mortal plea may earn my benevolence.
My castle is made of shattered coffins and bone.
The lives I take are etched upon my throne.
I am balance, bringer of law and order supreme,
yet my presence is sought only in screams.

"Our true end hath come!" my countrymen thunder,
"God, please save us! Death shall tear us asunder!"

Wherefore doth thou cry for a holy savior?
Wherefore doth I warrant such behavior?
I was thy maker, thy just and wise king,
I asked for no riches or engraved rings.

I am Emperor, I am Death, and in the very end,
the only true kingdom is made of dead men.
I looked up my birth cards in my tarot deck and this happened.
Dezzie Hex Jan 2018
I am a glutton for unrequited
desires, because fantasy is simple.
My lips quiver, wordless. Why?
Why am I only able to cradle
your hands in my dreams? Oh.
I suppose it is poetic justice.

We creatures who lurk in darkness
cannot touch the stars.
If I could touch you, would you
sparkle or would you burn?
Can I outline the contours of you
the way petals unfold in the sun?

I am unpolished, eroded by waves
of discontent as I lie at your feet.
And yet, I am satisfied with my
own dissatisfaction. Aren't you?
Did we ever know what it meant
to be satisfied? It isn't in our blood.

We were never meant to be content.
Dezzie Hex Dec 2017
When I was fifteen, I took a Health class and got "the talk,"--
(it's not what you're thinking because this is Tennessee).
It started with the boys and girls being separated and
mass-confusion ensued like bees who lost their queen--
(despite being female, I'm still scared of ***** diagrams).

Our speaker's name was Mary, but I think that was faked.

We were fed PG-rated and legally mandated information
about how our bodies are meant for HUSBANDS ONLY--
(joke's on her, half of my diet consists of Taco Tuesday).
Mary guided us through the "exciting changes" of our body
only to declare quite firmly that "*** doesn't even feel good"--
(unless you're married, of course, because your holes are holy).

And yet
I was
unconvinced.

And thus began my intrinsic journey of "pearl-hunting."
After all, if it didn't feel good with my hand, I couldn't
imagine what a **** would do for me and, boy oh boy,
that woman was so WRONG (**** on that, Mary).
But I digress, because I confess, I never really even
gave my ******* a second thought before I took an
ABSTINENCE CLASS.
Y'all don't even know how much wine I had before I wrote this.
Dezzie Hex Dec 2017
there's something disgusting about young love because we're conditioned to desire it
"your time will be up soon"
"you don't want to die alone"
"find someone early and work on them"

"WORK on them"

that's for the birds
i am a puma

a puma doesn't waste time worrying about who will sprint with her or love her in winter
a puma will have her fill until her hunger is sated
two rabbits for lunch and a buck for dinner
"aren't you lonely?"
no, because a good hunt requires solitude

why is it we are so keen to find love early and rush the hunt rather than
wait until we've become seasoned to the task?

i sink my claws into my prey and rejoice in the warmth of my victory as i whisper,
"think of all the time you spent choosing
when you should have been
hunting"
Drabble, kind of still editing.
Dezzie Hex Dec 2017
I want to go where our wildflowers grow,
and watch petals disrupt the silent water.
Are the ripples left behind a timeline of us,
or a tally of time we waste in the shallow?

We mourn the decay of love before we know
the rot is result of a self-induced slaughter.
No green hand or gentle hold saves our trust
in the process of time. We age and we wallow.
Still working this one. Critiques?

— The End —