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jacob-1Poems
She let me put my **** in Leading me inside with her Shaking ashen fingertips Embedding her ember eyes like Molten buckshot beneath the skin Her fake moans See-through writhing hips Begging for it Until like midnight strikes Fingertips behind my eye lids Timid her lips pressed Wet and ripe Against me Red lips archaic and distant I have rent the curtain That led to the holiest of holies Now it is only a matter of time Before she forgets my name Before she let's his name slip through her lips And I bash the mirror with my fist again Imagining it is her Frail rib cage beneath My gashed oozing knuckles Three fingers in A warm tongue slides against my brain She ***** the weak ones like me Breaking us in Making the next goodbye easier Her television dramatics Slamming doors and suitcases Raise a fuss from the neighbors With itchy ears Pressed against the walls Furiously they ********** to the Sound of her fists thudding weakly against my chest Tears dripping from my cheeks or hers *You ***** They hang on our words Like scarecrows in an autumn wind
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
Let It Ride
She let me put my **** in Leading me inside with her Shaking ashen fingertips Embedding her ember eyes like Molten buckshot beneath the skin Her fake moans See-through writhing hips Begging for it Until like midnight strikes Fingertips behind my eye lids Timid her lips pressed Wet and ripe Against me Red lips archaic and distant I have rent the curtain That led to the holiest of holies Now it is only a matter of time Before she forgets my name Before she let's his name slip through her lips And I bash the mirror with my fist again Imagining it is her Frail rib cage beneath My gashed oozing knuckles Three fingers in A warm tongue slides against my brain She ***** the weak ones like me Breaking us in Making the next goodbye easier Her television dramatics Slamming doors and suitcases Raise a fuss from the neighbors With itchy ears Pressed against the walls Furiously they ********** to the Sound of her fists thudding weakly against my chest Tears dripping from my cheeks or hers *You ***** They hang on our words Like scarecrows in an autumn wind
jacob-1
Written by
jacob-1
Equatorial Guinean
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
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