I hate how much you impress me,
It's like I can't even listen or look without yearning for you to undress me...
Press me, caress me; drag you fingertips along my lines,
Feel the pressure of your sturdy hands sink into my flesh and your body weight over mine...
It sickens me, exhausts me;
Envelopes the heavy ***** that
beat
beat
beats me
Its not fair, it can't be true
I'll never hold, tame, nor conquer you
Drawn to the flame, such a dangerous game
Rosie you'll burn,why haven't you learned?
A lingering light will lose the fight,
The masochistic urge; a hunger to merge
A craving for sin amplified from within
Its only a ticking of time and a glimpse of sublime and this cyclical curse shall repeat
Initially a dream, the twisting scene finds the shadows and chills that burst from the seam;
A creeping, a seeping of resent filling and keeping
I knew from first glance twas a twirl of chance,
Only passion and fire, the flames of desire
As they dance through my veins with vengeance and claim
The last shred of me and remaining purity.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 5:33 AM UTC
I hate how much you impress me,
It's like I can't even listen or look without yearning for you to undress me...
Press me, caress me; drag you fingertips along my lines,
Feel the pressure of your sturdy hands sink into my flesh and your body weight over mine...
It sickens me, exhausts me;
Envelopes the heavy ***** that
beat
beat
beats me
Its not fair, it can't be true
I'll never hold, tame, nor conquer you
Drawn to the flame, such a dangerous game
Rosie you'll burn,why haven't you learned?
A lingering light will lose the fight,
The masochistic urge; a hunger to merge
A craving for sin amplified from within
Its only a ticking of time and a glimpse of sublime and this cyclical curse shall repeat
Initially a dream, the twisting scene finds the shadows and chills that burst from the seam;
A creeping, a seeping of resent filling and keeping
I knew from first glance twas a twirl of chance,
Only passion and fire, the flames of desire
As they dance through my veins with vengeance and claim
The last shred of me and remaining purity.
This is slam poetry and is to be read with heavy rhythm flow. I did a revamp of this and hopefully the intended flow will be easier to attain.
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