Like an eager painter
I’ve splashed red across the milky white
Deeper in the center pinker as it trails out,
She loves the way the leather brushes her canvas
Stinging swashes and caressing strokes,
Her smile rings of joy where the moans cry out in pain.

There’s a twinkle in her eyes
Smallest pellet of tears working
Simultaneous with the pooling drenching tight clad cotton
I can smell Dior mixed with her sweet nectar,
Tickling the nose just over the bristles of my rough stache
And I return to my canvas, another broad swash,
Another clapping slap of skin to hide;
Echoed sounds reverb in stereo back tracked by the sweetest cry


“Please” isn’t a need
And barely a beg,
Show me with the wiggling of hips
Tease me with slight arches
Waft your *** to tremble my senses
Make. Me. Lose. Control.

She pants, heavy breaths
Shallow, quick - needing
The brain is in a fog - a haze
One tracked, foaming at the tongue
Drooling down her chin,
Flush ruby rose cheeks -
She’s fiending like an addict
Out of control convulsions when the brush tickles the warmth of wounds
She’s swooning with her body, slithering in silk sheets like a snake in sand

“Come for me”
I command it, not ask for it
I demand it, not suggest.
My fingers press against the fabric
And with one swift grip the cotton fails
Ripping from the wetted seams and drenched middle
Honey sticking to glistened flower petal lips
Looking like spider webs caught in rain.
How pink and perfect, dribbling uncontrollably-
She is ready.

I enter an index and *******
Folds gliding and inviting first and second knuckles in,
Curling down pressing towards the belly,
Opening and curling, come hither, follow directions
Make me happy, make me proud.
Make. Me. Lose. Control.

It doesn’t take much
The build was effective,
Her body was quaking for release
And as her body shivers and shakes
Her screams go hoarse,
Eyes roll back and sight nearly goes black,
Her core contracting like doing sit-ups at lightning speed
Her leather cuffed hands grasping sheets
We have reached the crescendo

And after the crash and clash
After the waves have passed,
A silent bemoaning remained.

“PlEaSe….”

And then I lost control…

You did not defend me.
What happened in that moment
Was a test of character
And if this was a book
You wouldn’t even be
a supporting character
Not a sidekick.
Not a subplot.
Not even mentioned in the acknowledgements.
You are a footnote
In a chapter I’ve already turned.

Sometimes the perfect person takes the longest journal to get to.

It is a part of you
That was left collecting dust
On the shelves of time

Your tears, they fall like crystal rain
Each one a song of sweet despair
I trace the edges of your pain
And lose myself in shadows there

My baby, you're a dream undone
A broken hymn, a bleeding star
Still shining when the night is gone
Still beautiful, just as you are

Your scent, it haunts my every sigh
A ghost that clings to skin and bone
Your lips once red now whisper why
And leave me feeling more alone

I love the way you fade away
Like smoke that slips through grasping hands
A rose that wilts but dares to stay
Still blooming in the shifting lands

You're lost to time
But in my mind you linger, true
A tragic song, a dying rhyme
My darling, I'm here and still I worship you

Carrying my truth.
I stand by my views,
watching through
my weakening gaze.

After a raging storm,
making peace with myself,
I vanish into the air,
my convictions fold with me.

Without simple answers,
wearing the new lens,
I see another world:
not clearer,
not wiser,
not safer,
…
just slightly shifted.

(for the one who stands at the edge, where the fabric begins to fall)

She had once been known—
but only through a portrait
painted in the shades of misunderstanding.

A silhouette mistaken for substance.
A voice mimicked before it ever found
its own breath.

She knows this.
And so the chains that bind her now
are not forged of cruelty,
but memory—
a memory that clings to who she was
before she could ever choose to become.

And still, she dreams of the sunlight.
Of fabric falling, not ripped—
but released.
Softly.
Willingly.
In the warmth of a gaze that promises
no weight will be added
to the skin that already bore so much.

She does not want to be reclaimed.
She wants to be re-seen.

Not as the story once told,
but as the story now unfolding.
A woman not returning,
but arriving.

And if the beholder must grieve
the version of her he once adored,
so be it—

for only in that grief
can he welcome the miracle
of what is finally, freely,
and beautifully real;

and  hope upon hope--

     not one of his own chains
     in sight

You are here
and once again I sink into silence
like a speck of dust in the light
reaching for peace

I often think about
What we could be
In another life

Wrong time, wrong place
But what if it wasn't?
In another life

Freedom to act
On the feelings
In another life

I would explore you
And you, I
In another life

And yet we are in this life
A spark left sizzling
Refusing to die
In this life

The numbness post your yelling,
Was so telling
Of how I irrelevant I was to you.

You had forgotten the care,
That was there
You had tainted recollection of what I did do.

I cherished you, you cherished me.
But not really,
Hence you've already moved on to someone new.

Mobile, Mobile, the society destroyer,
To recover that disease, it is my prayer.
Watching it from Morning till night
Is everyone doing wrong or right?

Playing games or using social media,
Destructive loss of idea.
Using Google for information,
And got reduced use of books for interpretation.

Mobile, Mobile, the society destroyer,
Making the world less merrier;
Causing damage of vision,
Causing loss to the young generation.

Oh God, eliminate the addiction
of the device making way to destruction.
Make our generation to rise,
So that we can become perfectly wise.

If I am not rage, then what am I?

I tried love, trust, patience, empathy

They were accepted out of courtesy

But discarded like an inconvenience

If I am not anger, then what am I?

I tried so very hard, so much time

Just to receive little effort and no time

Just to be abandoned and misled

If I am not anger, nor am I rage itself

Then I am the pain you gave to me

A little boy, deeply wounded
Scars hidden inside the moon
His love for his parents left so soon

A man, deeply sick
Saw his rescue lying
His mind forever dark and dying

A little girl, deeply sad
Sat down to understand
Why her dad didn’t hold her hand.

A teenage girl, deeply hurt,
Knows the secrets of the moon
And longs for light to break the gloom

Remember when we listened to amazing music.
Still do.
Classics like Fogerty and CCR,Janet,Gloria,Billy,Elton,and Rod
Newies like Katy and Gaga
Attend amazing concerts and performances.
Travel and explore
Older not old
We have been in the dark for five years
Always
Loving
Caring
Helpul
Giving
Respectful
Not Judgmental
Lighr is calling for happier and sunnier days
Always

Despite the current
For the river and the sea

well things are looking up‘, says the bear,



‘now maybe they will believe in me,

like you do’



yes. yet.



i can see and hear you.

I draw a smile on my face every day.
On the end of the day I erase it.
The next day I draw another smile.
I keep the routine.
Continuously I draw and erase
Eventually burn a hole.

insert egg

We all walk,
slowly and steadily,
toward death.

But regardless,
we keep living,
even if it is just surviving.

There was a sense of ultra violet and blue knowing my love for her was true. With sensations of my desires tore through my aspirations of my heart. As it beated with a infatuation. While her geniousness of her mind. Stopped my world from spirling into the abyss. As I found only the perceptions of her trust. With no disceptions of our passions as we turned young to old then to dust. Feeling me with a burning sensation deep in my soul. With temptations kiss that's when I knew her love for me was my only wish.

Let the light in, don’t get burned.
Willows will cry, but no longer you.
And may May last just a bit longer.
Seeds grow in darkness, and you can too.

Every wail of wind
Is a mournful dirge
Carrying off through the distance
Where tenebrous finger like branches sway,
And the moist air feels like a tearful eye.

The pale light won’t shine,
She hides her face in a cacophony of smoke and mirrors,
A majesty so shy she turns her back
As the wolves cry for her in loving sonnets.

Deeper is the black that darks the skies,
As veins of electric light quickly strobe the clouds,
There’s a crack of a cackling giant,
And the tears fall from angels,
As a strident breeze breathes across the landscape
As the trees mosh in syncopated patterns—
I calmly wait in the midst of storms.

I need no chariots of gleaming steel,
Nor crowns forged in the showroom’s zeal.
My wealth is woven in quiet threads—
The softest light where family treads.

A mother’s warmth, a hearth’s embrace,
More precious than a gilded chase.
Sister’s laughter, like a gentle stream,
Flows richer than a polished dream.

While others race in chrome and fire,
I walk through fields of humble desire.
Where simple moments bloom and grow—
There lies the treasure only I know..

Red-brown pine trunk,
With severed branches,
Greedily soaks up the streams
Heavenly waters.

"It's hard to live in a place where your existence feels more like a burden than a responsibility."

To love is human,
To be loved is a human need,

But the same is true,
For being free.
I long to fly out of this cage,
But I will clip my wings each day.

Each feather falling,
Is one step closer to you,

Every feather drifting away,
Is a single piece of my heart.

I must fly free,
Amongst my avian creed.

This phase in my life,
It's something like a blackout.
No light in sight.

But still...
searching for it.
And gasping,
Gasping for...
air.