Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
zoie marie Mar 2018
being gay won’t save me from touches i didn’t ask for,
because that’s what they are,
touches i didn’t ask for.
and you still punch me lightly in the arm,
like we’re fooling around, like you didn’t do anything wrong.
but i don’t like it like that,
i never have.
it feels so much worse when it’s forced,
or even when they're simple touches that the eye can barely see,
the alarms fire through my body at different speeds,
it’s absolutely riveting.
i'm learning the difference between want and need,
and i think when it all comes down to it,
you never even wanted me.
my eyes are up here,
not scattered in the crevices folded in my skin,
my eyes are up here,
but you don't care because you're wearing my favorite lopsided grin.
i believe in individuals having a right to their own consent,
and no offense, but you're not my romeo and i'm not your juliet.
liking the same *** won't save you from touches you didn't ask for,
because that's what they were,
touches you didn't ask for.
i think you can tell i haven't been doing so well
Molly Pendleton  Jun 2011
Touches
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
Touches
Soft and feathery
The dreamy intimacy of
Some lovely golden haired angel

Touches
Soft and feathery
Begin to burn and
Sting like some twofaced ******

Touches
Soft and feathery
Sear my very skin
Till I’m melted like earwax

Touches
Soft and feathery
Lie
when the language of rain
is in need of
translation.

when the parallel lines
have
crossed.

when observing the time
by the pizza boxes
arching
toward
a ceiling fan.

when pages of
stories are skipped
to the end unread.

rain touches the lonely,
rain is weaving  
the hearts
with dreams.

rain colors the lonely
arching in color
touching the sky.  

droplets  of water
through your window glass
tapping of comfort
of watering eyes.
Jonathan Wood  Dec 2012
Consider
Jonathan Wood Dec 2012
Consider

I've lost my patience.
As if one day we'll all come around.
I have no patience.
No, sit down
No, sit down and listen to me.
Now you think I'm running.
The shadow moves closer, touches me.
Sand touches hand,
touches life,
touches mind,
touches lies,
touches sky,
it touches.
In a trance I must stand, blood touches.
The ants climbing higher.
The ants don't desire.
They say that the end is coming soon.
Not even a year left to breathe.
The judgment of heaven rain down on me.
Silence is wicked.
Don't bury your head.
Don't reach for the sound.
Our singular conscience may rise from the ground.
We'll hide in the garden instead.
And consider the lord of the monkey is dead.
Jonathan Wood  Oct 2013
Consider
Jonathan Wood Oct 2013
I've lost my patience.
As if one day we'll all come around.
I have no patience.
No, sit down
No, sit down and listen to me.
Now you think I'm running.
The shadow moves closer, touches me.
Sand touches hand,
touches life,
touches mind,
touches lies,
touches sky,
it touches.
In a trance I must stand, blood touches.
The insects climbing higher.
The insects don't desire.
They say that the end is coming soon.
Not even a year left to breathe.
The judgment of heaven rain down on me.
Silence is wicked.
Don't bury your head.
Don't reach for the sound.
Our singular conscience may rise from the ground.
We'll hide in the garden instead.
And consider the lord of the monkey is dead.
Camden  Dec 2013
She Touches Me
Camden Dec 2013
Sometimes when we're alone, she touches me,
But not just touches me,
She grips me
But not just grips me,
It's something more,
Like she's trying to hold on to the very last thing that means anything to her.
A grasp so tight that I can't break free,
Her fingers trap the flesh beneath.
She squeezes as if she's going through the worst pain known to mankind,
And I know that deep down, she is.
She holds on as if letting go would mean she'd fall off the face of the earth all together
And I know that deep down, she wishes she could.
She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut,
Tears peek out of the corners.
I know what she's thinking about.
She's thinking about that night, three years ago.
She's thinking about the stale smell of cheap alcohol on his breath,
She's thinking about the paralyzing fear that pulsed through her body as she tried to resist,
She's thinking about how she doesn't understand why for some people,
The word "no" just doesn't cut it
She's thinking about how if maybe she hadn't had that last drink,
Or worn that tight dress,
Then maybe it would be different.
She's thinking about, "why me"
She's thinking about, "when will the pain stop"
She's thinking about how she wishes that she could just stop thinking.
But instead, she touches me.
But not just touches me,
She grips me.
Suzanne Penn Dec 2013
I too...
wake up sometimes
longing to touch you
to taste
tease
tempt
and excite you
I want to wake you up
with soft lingering kisses
and tender rhythmic touches
I want to slide my tongue
deeply within you
playfully persistent
until your back arches
and your breath catches
I want your spirit to soar...
before your eyes
are even open
I want to give to you
the passion
joy and love
that you have hungered for...
I want you
to begin each day...
fulfilled.
Chiibe-The-Rebel Oct 2015
The sun glistens on the water 
Making it sparkle and shine 
It almost seems alive to me 
This touches my heart

I hear a loon cry 
All alone in the night 
Her song haunts me 
This touches my heart

I see a rose growing in a bed of sand 
Struggling to survive 
It seems to cry out for help to me 
This touches my heart

I hold a new born baby in my arms 
Opening it's eyes to a strange new world 
It's crying for it's mother 
This touches my heart.

All of these things touch my heart 
But none near as much 
As when I see you smile
( A loon is a bird )
My boyfriend made this for me and its the sweetest thing ever xD <3
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please  us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
barnoahMike Jul 2010
Have you ever been to a place ,,where the sky touches the ground?; AND;;when you turn around all you see is Scarlet Red..In your deepest thoughts ,,what does it remind YOU of??  Have you ever been to a place in your Life,,,When things were Dark and Gray??  AND;;when you turn around,,all YOU see is pain and strife>>Did you feel the Need to Bow or EVEN P R A Y???  now WOULD be a good time,,No more delay,,Because You're at that Place where  the Sky Touches the Ground.. get to that place that you're longing,,and when YOU turn around,,You'll SEE ,,,I'm Still Here with you,,Right where we are...as if WISDOM HERSELF had taken us to this lofty place to peruse with previous unknown clarity,,from this place where the SKY TOUCHES THE GROUND         BY:barnoahMike

— The End —