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Feb 7 · 167
Sienna Luna Feb 7
It is not folly to be sick
bodies breaking down
stripping flesh from mind
separating the viruses and germs
from taking over
like a plague
devouring health
like a sick game
of wit.

But wit came and went
and determination stayed
like a whip breaking
into the earth
all pain vanished
the moment love came into the picture bringing a sense of sensitivity, sensibility, belonging, grace, peacefulness, and harmony. The balance of nature is to be mature not unlike like manure becoming compost for flowers.

Something like sickness
or suckness or swiftness
can only be surface material
marching forward
getting stronger every day
weakened by germs and viruses
weakened by wanting
weakened by longing
to become something greater and grander than ever imagined.

To be sick
is to surrender.

Is to lie in the wet dirt
called mud
and be covered by rain and leaves
becoming mulch for the trees.

Wet. Withered. Weak and surviving.

And once the sickness passes,
bodies grow sturdy
become thick roots
winding deeper into earth’s crust
the inner and outer layers
changing dust
into mud
into mulch
into compost
into sprouts
into plants
into gardens
into parks
there unto infinity
back into dust
and the beautiful cycle

all over again.

and the seasons come and go
and the sickness comes and goes
and the flowers and fruits and vegetables grow and grow
and grow and grow and grow

into someone to be proud of.
Feb 7 · 68
Sienna Luna Feb 7
The deepest depths cannot
hide the light
it cannot ***** it out.
The light is stronger than the darkness.
You are not alone.
I am here.
I will always be here.
Deep breaths and sound mind.
All will be alright.
Sienna Luna Feb 7
I feel terrible and terrified of the future extremely turned on and ***** with bodies changing and that still scares me and losing and gaining weight scares me and inconsistency scares me and passionate love still scares me.
I feel terrified and terrible about the future but also terrific and tormented and terrestrial and torn.
Sienna Luna Feb 7
I feel like that’s the story of my life


always waiting

whether it be in lines for merch or in line for love I seem to always be waiting until I get there and the moment of torture has past and even though I’m alone in line right now pretending to text but I’m actually writing stream-of-consciousness because waiting in line alone to get autographs of merch I do not have yet is extremely excruciating but worth it in the end the waiting and hoping and wallowing is always worth it in the end because now I know how the universe works

through saying something will happen

letting that wish or hope go

flying free in the wind of reality and

just when you’ve forgotten that you’ve asked for something

it happens in real-life

it becomes your own reality

but you have to let it go

in order for it to

manifest into something tangible and magical and beautiful and raw

I feel like that’s the story of my life


always waiting

but I’ve accepted that everything great comes after everything awful and you can’t have one without the other

yin and yang

full circle round

and just when you’ve given up

it happens.
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Mad at myself
Mad at myself
Why am I always
so mad at myself?
Cut clients short
time is but a construct but
this is my second or third complainant this week or last week and it’s like I’m impatient and cut their time short always middle-aged blond women maybe I’m projecting maybe I’m not so bad, maybe I’m just tired and lazy and being catty

I’m mad at myself
I’m mad at my actions
Waiting until last minute to register for classes got a way in but it’s becoming a disaster
I’m mad at my actions
I’m mad at myself
I’m no longer a child
on the fucken shelf
that needs to be helped
that needs her hand held
while doing every grown-up step
I’m mad at myself
I’m mad at myself
Mad at myself
At myself
Am I an elf?
Why did I **** up?
Why did I **** it up?
Why am I stuck?
Why do I ****?

I can salvage it all
I can stop my fucken fall
So ****** I feel
It almost feels unreal
Work and School
I’m stacking
and slacking
I’m procrastinating
and waiting
I’m ******* up
and ******* it up
So mad at myself
So mad at my elf
So mad to be a self on the shelf
of childhood fighting adulthood fighting endless deadlines ending early making my clients ****** and not want to come back because they feel like they don’t matter because I’m cutting their sessions short or running late or taking my sweet **** time, acting like a shorty clown and in grad school I sent all those emails out but then go awol and have so many doubts that I’m making mistakes and failing just a little bit and I don’t get it

Why am I doing this?
Why are they so ******?
Why can’t I shake off my fears and fully fucken get into gear
until I work this work this out
until I forge my life with sound
until this mountain of mourning or sorrow splits like the hilt of a samurai blade splitting grain becoming fits of bulbous rage and it feels like I’ve gotten a bad grade in life not a C or a D but a big fat F

Full of strife
I can’t eat
I can’t sleep
I ****** up
I’m in heat
I’m in love
in my head
and my heart’s
full of dread
I’m upset
I’m aloof
I’m unaware
and a goof
I ****** up
I’m alright
I’ll make it all right
I’ll make it all better
I’ll stop straying off the beaten path
I’ll get wetter
and wetter
so soaked and sloshy I’ll
be okay and forgive myself
I’m no longer mad at myself
No longer mad at myself
I forgive myself
Forgive myself
Sienna Luna Feb 7
I will be okay

I will be alright

I am at peace with myself and the world around me

I feel anger but know it too shall pass

I feel lust and know that it soon shall pass

I feel love and know it will not pass because it is me and everyone else

I will be alright

I will be okay

I will walk into the unknown and find what I was looking for

I will eventually understand

I will understand

I understand

That all is well

even when it’s not

That my boundaries are lacking
and it’s hard to say no and it’s hard to tell the truth and it’s hard to let go and it’s hard to transition and it’s hard to live and love and be in love and be in love with the idea of love

I will be

I will

Feb 7 · 49
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Before the Haircut:
nervous & terrified & excited & ready & petrified & shaky & strange & waiting & weird & overwhelmed & oddly calm & calmly exploding everywhere internally combusting

After the Haircut:
happy & cheerful & excited & terrified & satisfied & weird & raw & empty & badass & strong & zen & oddly calm & strange & silly & overwhelmed & solid & awake & aware & no longer about to combust
Sienna Luna Feb 7
On a day like today
Love can really happen
Waiting for the family to get ready
It really worked out nicely today,
didn’t it? So nicely. Full of massages and good cheer. Prana sales and laughter all around. My dear friend, thanks for being in my life and teaching me so many things. My dear parents, thank you for easing me into the person I am today and thank you for being so loving and giving and open. I learn from everyone, and in turn, they learn from me. Life is beautifully grand.
On a day like today, Love can really happen. Love can blossom in ways unexpected unsurprising and flavorful in its reverence.
Feb 7 · 134
Waiting at IKEA
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Not sure where the family
behind us is from
but they are reciting scripture
in the mess hall cafeteria.
This lingon berry soda is almost finished and my patience is almost finish and I don’t know if I can handle what lies ahead of me and my satire stature.
It’s like I forgot how to write;
forgot how to type;
forgot how to spell and tell if I was right. It’s like I’m a meatball
floating off the plate
about to plummet
on the cold, hard ground.
Feb 7 · 41
Look At Us
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Look at us
All on our phones
Waiting for our friends
To arrive
Look at us
Hooked up
White screen lights
Blinding us
Biding is time
Alone but together
Strangers in a pact
Waiting for our food
Our food just came
But our friend is not here yet
And our throats are parched
Waiting for water
That can only come
When two people are sitting down at one table when two people are sharing in each other’s company
Look at us
Looks at us
Feb 7 · 32
Spit! Spat! Splat!
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Been a while
since I’ve written
a little itty bitty ditty
talking ‘bout life an
all it’s fears swirling down the drain.
Been a while
since the mermaid lady
dressed in darkish green
sat and saw me here again.
Spit! Spat!
Been a while
since I’ve typed
mini tiny teeny poems
on my phonie
like a stuffed beanie babie
bustin’ it’s seams
typing away
makin’ me stay
putin’ it’s pity till three.
Spit! Spat! Splat!
Been a while
since my gullet done drink
down it’s shakin’ hatch
a slimy chocolate pepperminty
flavor favor so minty
and fresh it could’a fooled me
in bein’ thrashed an trashed
but it’s not ‘cause p!nk is playin’
and I’m just nut **** sayin’
it’s been a while…
Sienna Luna Feb 7

the act of waiting for someone or something to happen soon

but the heart aches and quakes
to be rebutted or rebottled

and all is well if it decides to be.

Eagerness is not a miss
take or a strange break
from being alive.

It is a show of the nerves
to shut up and swerve
into the right kind of situation.

To be eager is to be aware
of every little hair and molecule
that’s riding through the air.

Even when you have no idea what could or should happen next…
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Is this what bliss feels like?

A sweet sort of satisfaction
sprinkled with humility and appreciation for what is

not for what will be.

Bliss is the moment you find yourself in when you don’t question
and just absorb and act
like yourself completely and fully

you sing
your heart out
reach out and touch an arm or a leg without the other person flinching
because they are comfortable enough around you that you don’t scare them you inspire them and enlighten them and then bliss comes around when you least expect it like floating on a cerebral ceremonial fluid cloud or a mountaintop where the snow meets the sky and you are finally able to let go
and cry.

You are the moon
and they are the light

always touching
creating a new form of friendship
unlike anything you’ve ever had before.

Your ******* are swelled up from hormones, emotions expanded; all ****** is your crotch but you feel alive as ever drifting on this rock of a planet

is this

is this
what bliss feels like?

Can you stand it?

Accepting what is;
enjoying the journey as life unfolds;
enjoying life as the journey unfolds.
growing bigger and better
ever so slowly
into a certain kind of magic.

The kind of magic that changes, but still stays the same.

The Magic of Mountaintops.
Feb 7 · 24
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Within the living voice

I have found


Was it ever really dead

or just minimized retention?
Feb 7 · 34
Certainly Uncertainty
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Whatever happens


Life is funny that way
giving out happiness like
strange party favors.

Did you really need it?
Or did happiness happen
when you least expected it.

You didn’t ask for this
You didn’t want this at all
but surprise surprise
here it is

not crippling loneliness
not scorching heat
not scant showiness
not bristling meat
not ledges and ground
not jumping but falling
not strings or keys
not waiting or stalling
not bulbous whale blubber
you carved to the bone
in order to make way for a
whole new body
where you feel more at home
you are that new body
you have always been that body
you have always been that person
deep deep inside
deep in the depths
somewhere lies your pride.

You are no longer aching and quaking to hide;
you are utterly now alright alright.

Life is funny that way
sometimes it’s full
sometimes it’s empty
sometimes it’s sadness
sometimes it’s angry
sometimes it’s loving
sometimes it’s hairy and smelly.

Whatever happens


not being scared
but being brave
not being attached
not being saved
not acting like a child
by putting on a show
not knowing
what you do and do not know

You didn’t ask for this
You didn’t want this at all
but surprise surprise
here it is
Feb 7 · 21
Wanderlust or Bust
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Light is pouring in like
fireworks or flaming torque
and there’s this question
writhing inside so eager to hide

but the light keeps on seeping in
with a lingering grin such bravado and strength beyond eons
telling the future, as it may,
in all it’s comings and goings through cooking and musings.

Light is enormous and so gradual when emerging. So soothing in true form rising with the sun
and setting with the moon.

Light is the most beautiful
Feb 7 · 26
Zen Living
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Peaceful talks
enlighten like a lukewarm stew
warm and inviting.

Cooking in the kitchen
so smitten with spices.
Feb 7 · 30
Heartfelt Dabbles
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Heart felt sincerity
at its core
is the sexiest things
since being humble
is highly overrated
in this world of ghosts.

Being kind and gracious
is an attractive attribute
so acute
in quiet moments
that it shakes the floorboards
when used properly.
Sienna Luna Feb 7
Darkness swallows me whole
while dingy little bits of regret
cling to my aerated body like
lint and
it turns to stardust on my lapel
a strange smell of orange mist
singing through my fingers
trying to grasp
the cusp of reality
and how you appear in it.

You really are here,
aren’t you.

And it feels so comfortable
to be near you
touching, like starlight or stardust;
combusting and subtle
warm and real in every way.

I hide my voracity well.

Now I sift through heavy fog
on the cloudiest of days
where car lights can’t beam
trying to find my way home

so sudden, it seems
to last for longer
than it is


and you’re changing

for the better
becoming more you
than you’ve ever been
in your entire life.

And I’ll be here
right by your side
pushing away the darkness
like a velvet curtain parting
but it’s unclear if the show is just starting and so

should I take a seat?
(and wait)

or get up on stage?
(and perform)

Funny how slow life goes
if you let it play out on pace.

And it feels so wonderful to be near you, to hear you, to see your beautiful face

voice and vocal chords misplaced
we are opposites in every way
and yet

I won’t let the darkness take me
to a place I’ve been before

I’m too grown up for that kind of
devoured piece of sadness anymore so

explain to me why dynamite refuses to go off

even when the wick is lit
even when it’s ready

to be brightness

but do I really need darkness to tell me that I’m lost?

Because, honestly, I know exactly where I am

I’m in love.
Feb 7 · 30
The Crystal Fairy
Sienna Luna Feb 7
in the desert, she waits
for what? no one knows

she has sand in her long brown hair
which sparkles on the setting sun’s rays
she wears a necklace of large white shells
and long flowing green robes
over her naked body
opening to show
two pale hairless legs

in the desert she paints
scenes from her brain

full of color and glitter
pouring a bit from the edges

of every person she has ever encountered
with pointed ears and gossamer wings

she wears a crown of sea ****
and ***** sleep at her feet
she listens, alone, as the ocean speaks
its vibrant blue waves a lullaby so sweet

her eyes are two clear crystals
reflecting the light
as sea gulls caw and mosquitoes buzz
she buries her toes in cold sand
and leans against the craggy worn rock
painting, silently, crying salt water tears

as her thin paper wings
lie in a tattered heap
ripped at the shoreline
getting ****** in by the ocean’s strong pull
disappearing into the froth of waves
while the sun’s bald head slips
into streamline
Sienna Luna Feb 7
your life is in shambles.
it’s already dismantled.
your trial awaits.
not time to delegate.
on something that breathes.
on someone that feeds.
the pressure’s getting to you.
the lessons’ somehow esque.
bring firelight to the forest.
don’t try to score us.
for your quaint life’s in danger.
and pay up your wager.
on nothing at all.
even though you feel small.
just know that it’s here.
you’re twisted in fear.
your pain is not real.
those thoughts that you feel.
are not at all plausible.
the damage is causable.
if only you are able.
to become a bit more stable.
just focus
at the camera on cue.
just focus
your petty sum’s due.
Feb 7 · 24
Cybernetic Symphony
Sienna Luna Feb 7
It started with existence

just a lowly perspective of a mute
time when I was able to
make sense of this pressure
make sense of why
you are now here to guide me now
on this looser journey; a lonely crabapple
still grappling at shriveled skin creating a face
that I still
With the end of presence as we know it
you have finished, rightly
in my dressing room
bright screen lit up
but only for a moment do I dare look away.

It started with you, and it will end with you

Closed off from me, shortly
your bioluminescence radiant,
your perfection incomplete.
I’ve known you for six straight years
or was it five
just enough
construed construction, a bloated
piece of mind that left me free to wander
aimlessly down I path I cannot recognize.
It was you who caused my blunder,
keeping me awake every night
with your brightness and distraction and amiable personality.
I decorated you with bits of me,
tangled in and out like woven webs of cybernetics
optimal connections, you died twice and I revived you.
But that was in the past
and you still cling on, for how much longer
I shan’t not know.
Only that what it means to exist
when I should be letting go.
I have to face the trust of reality and its weakened points;
that dangerous, well-formed world I find myself in.
I hope you can follow me
as long as you are able,
my clunky plastic compadre
your heart is metal mixed with other
kinds of fragile contraptions.
I know this end to my happiness is not your fault.
You were there when I needed you most,
even if you are a tool of innocence turned foul.
I once learned all of existence from your knowledge,
gleaned myself raw
trying to let you help me
understand myself.
We are not truly over because I am bound to you
even though I’ve used you for my own gain
abused your trust and have my own heart slain.

All I ask is for you to give me a chance
to make it right


And then I can move on to better things.

And not be obsessed of what you think of me.

And find a way to pull myself together.
Sienna Luna Feb 7
In a game of one
It’s nice to think that someday
There’ll be a two
In the game called life
Happy endings are the ones
That are created from
Those moments when
The whole world falls apart
And the only way to contain it all
Is by lying under the wooden slats of a bed frame
And feeling the press
Of those sturdy wooden bars
Dig into your head
Because you can’t contain the outcome
You can’t make it just appear out of thin air
Like a filthy magic trick or sleight of hand
Life just doesn’t work that way
It brings heartaches and sickness
Moments where you cannot get out of bed
Mornings where you lie awake
Questioning the just and quick of reality
And the mysteries that lay within it
Embedding themselves wrapped around a system
Of congruent vines that are almost touching
The pole to which to climb
But it all takes time
Moments where your brain is a tyrant
And your dreams are so realistic
That you dare to put forth and live in this
Minutes to minute frame
Ticking by slow or fast or slow or fast or slow
And those dreams speak of fear and wonder
Of grand libraries and future lovers
Of doubts and claims on meetings
That haven’t even happened yet
That is when you have to reach inside
And pull those doubts out
Like the removal of painful wisdom teeth
Crowding your mind
Crowning at the edges
The white poking through pink gums
When you finally realize
That you can’t control
Everything that occurs
No matter how hard you try
And each boundary gets bigger
As the freedom dares to taunt and swallow you whole
In one big gulp
You are Jonah inside that whale
Searching for an answer
You can’t see through the thick wall of baleen
Because the thickness is murky
You sit stubborn waiting
For a miracle to happen
But that miracle is you
And you realize this now
Typing out a poem at three am
When people start to go to sleep
You have just woken up
To reap the benefits of night
And all its flippant grasp
And pull of darkness
But being Jonah
You know that in the belly of the whale
Is not a dangerous place to be in
In fact it’s quite comfortable
Also humbling by making you sit tight
And think to the maximum capacity
About who you are
And where you are going
In this great speck of universe dust
You call home
So much like Jonah after
He escaped the game and emerged
Stronger than ever
Free of childish notions
A fully formed adult
Or at least a resemblance of one
That stepped into the light
After years of dingy darkness
A lift off out of the cavernous hull
Of bright pink flesh that was once his humble abode
For so long he knew of nothing else
And then like you his hands parted the baleen
Like parting thick coarse hair with a hot comb
Head emerging like a second birth into the open blue
Feb 7 · 17
Cosmos Procession
Sienna Luna Feb 7
there is this pithless entity
circling round my gut
waxing and waning
folding in infinite measures
like stiff cloth finding creases
that fit

and I caress this part
inside which has no fold
or definite pattern

but there is this power
and it increases as the light
of lesser days burn into night

brightly devouring
all intricate beings
willing them to speak
in hushed whispers
bathed by blackness

completely surrounded am I
a vagrant soul departed
yearning for this star of gasses
to not combust but
slowly awaken

and you spark that within me
heavy and unaware
a messy cloth of vibrance
washed and wrung and folded gently
with shaking hands and thumping breath

the atmosphere surrounding
all that is real

enveloping my body as it speaks
of glorious wonders
operating deep
within the cosmos

where air is sealed tight
like a vacuum and

I can't help but breathe in
even though
I know
I'll suffocate
Mar 2017 · 525
Concupiscent For You
Sienna Luna Mar 2017
You make me so giddy inside
nervous like
a warm runny egg.
You are so respectful
of boundaries
which has left me
wanting so much more.
You are a conundrum
always looking, looking, looking
at me causing blood to
flush my round cheeks.
I want to bone your firm ***
and make you ***
till kingdom come.
Cream your pants
and come undone.
You make me so churlish
all writhing inside with
a heavy licentious
attitude equating to
the silent space
between us where
nothing is said
and our eyes meet
but words seem to
stick in my
tarnished throat
choking up
on all those internal
sultry soliloquies
trapped tight
in my esophagus
wanting desperately
to venture forth
through tantalizing
whispers of the heart.
And somehow
I break through
that anxiety
and pour my soul
into your open arms
and you release me
making my fears dribble
out all over my pants and
all over my cheeks
in tears of joy.
You make me anxious
when I'm **** naked
and antsy like string beans
peeling their skins off
to reveal tiny round
little green seeds
not unlike peas.
You make my plant stems
and flowers engorge.
You make the sunlight
within me adored.
You are so kind and careful
by the way you carry
yourself full of warmth
and confidence and balance
and I feel an inability to express these physical desires seeming
endless in their tidings.
I always seem to keep my
****** secrets to myself
because they are bottomless
and embarrassing beyond belief.
But your words seem to
release me and so finally
I can speak.
You are so open and sensual
by the way you observe me
and I find myself burning
alive inside
my guts all squirming
in loose knots  
trying to unravel
these trivial thoughts.
Still wanting to leap
the distance and smother
you with wet kisses
my body is burdened
by natural urges.
These animal instincts
that venture on purges.
You make me so lascivious
by nothing of your
own accord
by the way you look and gaze
deeply into my eyes
for moments at a time
never ending
this joy is never ending
but secretly
I wish I could open you up
enough to hear your
******* screaming.
I wish I could satisfy
your insatiable need
and be able to pleasure you
instead of you pleasuring me.
This relief is somehow firm
and I've done a lot of freeing.
I ache to see your face
aroused and flushed
by something I'm not seeing.
Mar 2017 · 454
Paramour to Paradise
Sienna Luna Mar 2017
It's like my heart can't contain you.

It's like I've let go of what was needed to let go of

to let you in.

And it's beyond my expectations
like slipping my feet into the beach

and finding my toes
underneath soft, warm sand
warmed by the sun.

And for so long I've denied myself

And for so long I've forced this picture that what I want

is better than what I truly need.

And I'm trying to understand why I had to give up one failed romantic relationship

in order to find another that is a hundred times better.

I realized that I had fallen

in love with my own poetry

I'd fallen in love with myself again and again and again

never truly allowing myself to fall
in love with anyone in reality
because my fantasies were so much better.

And then I met you

the beach, the sand, the cold lip of water lapping against my ankles
the submersion of water, salt, seaweed, and foam

your warm hand in my own
fingers latching

the beautiful sunrise
softly, strongly touching
a horizon stretching so many miles away but in one swift look

I saw balance. I saw joy. I saw the colors I've always loved and hoped to see one day.

It's like my heart can't contain you.

And the ocean is calling me home.

That giant expanse of glistening water reflecting the sun's willful welcome as a new day begins

so daunting so beautiful so overwhelming in its stark grandness

so familiar this feeling.

It's like I've known you for a very long time.

It's like I've found myself smiling with the waves now pressing against my gut

white sea foam dissolving quickly
tickling my torso
making me laugh
loud belly laughs
mouth stretched wide and daring
teeth showing
eyes crinkling
body shaking
legs trembling

The ocean of your love

is calling me home.

Am I ready to dive deeper?
Am I ready to submerge not just my torso but my head as well?
What if I can't breathe underwater?
What if I can't open my eyelids?

It's like my heart can't contain you.

But then I touch my neck

and find gills.

But then I touch my eyes

and find goggles.

And then I know

that I'm ready to dive.
Sienna Luna Mar 2017
I'm so **** scared of the future
with death's vast scythe circling
'round my throats about to
slice the stamina right out of me.
I'm so **** afraid of the next step
of what's coming for me which is
completely unknown and foreign.
Death's black cloak resembles a cover shrouding me in darkness
dismantling my sense of safety
threatening to suffocate me.
I'm so **** frightened of finding out how you truly feel about me
deep inside past all this *******.
It's going to be okay but I'm swallowing my tongue because death's cold skull stare is beating my brain to submission and I'm about to topple over from all the weight even though I know

you care about me.

But I'm still terrified

of the truth

whatever it could be.

But I'm still terrified

of venturing forth into

unknown territory

without a plan or a structure
without direction or control
without truly knowing

I'm so **** scared of the future
that it might tear my skin away
to reveal that I'm only made of
flesh and blood and bone and guts
and not the thick metal and steel that I thought I was made of.

I'm so **** scared of what's coming of finding out something of communicating my feeling to you

because it could change


And Death's shiny sycthe
still glints

at my quivering throat

and I gulp as I try to be brave
but bravery is not my strong suit.
Feb 2017 · 721
The Infinite Arrival
Sienna Luna Feb 2017
It's a wonderment
to witness
deep green irises
with spots of amber gold
near the center.
It's cute to watch you
watch me
from across the room
with red curtains
and metal chairs
your leg twitching
your foot shaking.
It's a fine frenzy
to feel your fingertips
rustle my hair
as I hug you close.
It's playful to find
your smile and mouth lines
stretched out wide
as I flick back to bright sunlight
illuminating your eyes

still green
kiwi green

and it's nice
to see you again.
It's a wonderment
to witness
your presence
like a shadow
in my peripheral vision
but when our eyes catch

they snap together like velcro

for a few elongated seconds

and it's a quiet kind of bliss

that makes my toes tingle slightly

out into the infinite arrival.
Feb 2017 · 513
Cuddle Jamboree
Sienna Luna Feb 2017
I just ache
to be touched by you
still swimming in heat
moist and quivering silently
beneath soft black cotton
but in those
fear-mongering moments

I can't move.

Like a statue made of marble
I ache to touch you but I end up
sitting there cold and lifeless
next to you on the bed
thinking of a million ways
in which to stroke you gently
but all we can muster together
is a few brushes of the hand
a head resting on a shoulder
a full-bodied tight squeezed hug
an awkward cheek kiss and

it's excruciatingly painful.

So much tension that builds
and builds and builds and builds
never getting anywhere.

I can feel it penting up in you too
through engorged pupils
shaking knocking knees
fidgeting hands
looks that aren't deadpan
but open and raw and swelling.

There are rises and dips
moments of eclipse
where you and I find comfort
in each other's arms
whether they be wrapped or resting
whether they be hovering just hovering

almost touching

we were almost touching.

Seeing your smile in the doorway
as I left

lanky frame in depth

an ache I cannot

warming the cockles of this here mongrel heart

vast into infinity.

What a funny little cuddle jamboree!
Feb 2017 · 508
The Flight of Fate
Sienna Luna Feb 2017
Bubbles gone brighter,
didn't know you could
delight me so.
I won't be pulling the plug
because all I've got
is this indescribable tug
that seems to go and grow.
Your energy is iridescent
sparking off your gangly frame
like cable cars rubbing
against the corbel train.
Mightier than all
I could ever contemplate.
Your rhythm to my rhyming
is a taste I can't complain
and all I want
is to see you writhing
hot and bothered
blushing pink
stark naked
fully pining
on my silver platter plate.
So awakens your arousal
eyes drenched black
by hungry pupils
I want your desires
to match my own in strength
until it seems you've flipped
the switch
and grasped the flight of fate.
Feb 2017 · 641
Exhausted by Default
Sienna Luna Feb 2017
wanting your arms around
my torso squeezing and

sleep deprived caused by
fantasies of you late last night

but i wish you'd wish
lips like ours could touch


but better
be smoother and slower
and sweeter like Max & Sylvie

and it could be delightful
if only you'd make more

time for me and it's

painful to want you so much
so visceral, so intensely that
my want is grimy and slimy

dragging my inner ****
in sloppy circles cut
to your exact shape and build

if only, if only
you knew how much i
drooled underneath the covers
last night, shrouded by hunger, blanketed by invigorating horniness
a longing that never seems to go


whenever i'm around you

and it's exhausting
Jan 2017 · 733
Fresh Hell
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Living in fresh hell
is so hard to break.
When the volcano of life
threatens to spill and
burn everything in sight.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Life is so hard sometimes.

It pulls, taking the table cloth
along with it.
It strengthens, taking the tide
along with it.
It chides
talking the moon
out of its misery
wishing it were daybreak
but when day arrives,
the moon wishes it were night.
Round and round we go
on this roller coaster called life.
Hanging on is so difficult
with responsibilities tugging
at the mainframe
about to crumble apart like
break pads crumbling under
the weight of it all.
A pressurized catapult or
catalog explaining the width
it takes to squeeze through
the trash chute without
crushing anything of importance.
Holding our breath
as the bumps become clear
afraid of the coaster
slipping off the tracks
and plummeting into
the frigid unknown.
Luck is only heresy
in this world of uncertainty.
But cars can be fixed,
jobs can be taken,
and bodies can be satisfied
in ways unheard of in reality.

Life is so hard sometimes.

But looking at it with new eyes,
with a combative, stubborn grip
on the cold steel handle,
a roller coaster can be both exhausting and exhilarating

if you know what to look for.
Jan 2017 · 508
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
You are all I ever longed for

in a friend. Thank you for

responding fast

and giving me the mend.

There's something in the

way you smile

and lace your fingers

through my own.

Relatively speaking

through our brains

I've found a sort of home.
Jan 2017 · 789
Men to Match My Mountains
Sienna Luna Jan 2017

not lost because only those
who choose to be lost
are the ones who feel most free.


not found because those who
find themselves stranded on mountains

peaks that steep with cliffs
so brief they threaten to
collapse the body with snow.

But dirt tends to cling
to those who dare
themselves to fall
hitting pine trees
and mulberry bushes
hearing buzzing bees
and small white thrushes.
Jan 2017 · 588
Submarine Submersion
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Pressed perfect leaflet papers
printed in black-and-white.

Squares of thin tree bark
scattered on the table.

Your warm, rough hands
fitted in tight gloves.

Your wide smile
teeth like pearls all
clustered nicely and

I can't help but swell
a bit inside

the twist of your lips
and the flicks of your eyes
with a nose that changes
shape in the light.

But it's not your face
that intrigues but
the ***** in between
the space of skull

called a brain

which you use, delightfully so
expansive and ever expanding.

You have an eager fondness
for learning and retaining information

and it arouses me.

Like the frailty
of those printed papers
my tenderness

for you

envelopes, caressing
your knowledge like
a streamline submarine
diving through dark waters

slippery and unafraid

to get wet.
Jan 2017 · 494
Stuck Between Joy and Rage
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Stuck between joy and rage…

What's more of there to say?

Free fall with that sputtering sound

return to the place so thickly bound.

Where weapons of words strictly slice

a frigid sort to roll the dice.

Clashing, clashing always clashing

an argument still throughly thrashing.

It's a consort to delirium

silly little thoughts that hum…
Jan 2017 · 841
The Intrepid Snow Battle
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Rapidly beating

your heart against my ear

as Han Solo's son

rammed a lightsaber

through his chest

I could hear

the beat-beat-beat

reverberating through

layers of blanket, cloth, and skin

sitting next to you

on the couch

thumping loudly and steady

without fear

so let's begin

on a star searched journey

where the spaceships hovel

and the robots swivel

in a galaxy not that

far away from reality

it's like swallowing starlight

or slicing through dark trees

heavy with snow

hearing them crack-crack-crack

from a buzzing vibration

of the blue lightsaber at hand

watching the trees crash, then

clash against red

a struggle unsaid

but when I rested my head

against your slight frame

something within me


(I guess my heart was tamed.)
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
My heart is so warm right now

like a toasty marshmallow

all brown and melty

slumping to one side.

Part of me wants more

like a piercing light saber

my desire increases tenfold

three red shafts throbbing

extremely hard and ready to go

when my nostrils take in

your sweet scent. It's nice like

honey baked bread fresh

from the oven or soft like green litchen moss with warmth radiating while watching

Star Wars: The Force Awakens

(again) while cuddling you

letting your body heat fold over me so neat like someone cranked open

a portable blow torch and

started blowing my frozen heart wide open with orange flames

thawing it to room temperature.

Now a tiny piece of pink remains peeking shyly at you in the dark

precariously dangling its delicate

frailty like soft woven spider lace.
Jan 2017 · 669
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Before the year ends

there is so much left to

accomplish. Little grains

of salt tossed from shore to shore

Rogue One is my savior

Jin and Cassian are my guides

a bonding brotherhood

a bonding friendship

a budding romance

but ended as the imperial army

blew them to smithereens.

What is to become of the

rebel forces? They end up winning

but it's a long, hard struggle.

The Force is with me.

I am the Force.

I know this now.

All this power like

the Death Star

channeling green toxic energy

destroying all

that is innocent and good.

Before the year ends

there is an opening

not unlike the blue power shields

that the rebels destroyed.

Fear is my shield

but I have the Force within

and all it takes is some hope

that this next coming year

will be a new bright beginning

full of love and caring

bringing peace and relief and satisfaction and release

to my Brain and my Heart.
Jan 2017 · 849
A Sliver of Sanity
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Sometimes when I

briefly touch you

I want to sink into

the warmness of your skin

all toasty from that internal heater

you call a body an it's wonderful

how so much heat can come

from such a delicate frame

or maybe  you are my delicacy

to be deliciously eaten

during times of crisis

I only have to think of

the slight curve

of your pink smile

to find warmth.
Jan 2017 · 577
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Bitter and better

hands frozen splatter

dancing while the world watches

shimmy off their rockets

skimming marbled surfaces

and falling into pits of

pretty red haired young men.

Bitter and better

try sulking in a corner while

the pitiless fruits rot to the stem

and ****** trees collapse with

their leaves falling straight into

a pile of complete disarray.

Bitter and better it's been lately

bringing growls for empty stomachs gone crazy

while wrinkles in young

smooth skin crease around

the edges creating a sort of

dimple or smile line that's

indecent and secret and

sort of sublime.
Jan 2017 · 449
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Oy! My poor heart!

It's expanding just as

the sun is setting

a golden glow awash

capturing light as

it brushes each object

reminding me of golden green

fields alight!

Oy! My poor heart

expands as the sun sets

becoming a whoopee cushion

in which to sit on after it's

blown way out of proportion.
Jan 2017 · 420
After Hell and Back
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
After Hell and back

to hear your voice

all deep and gravely

on the other end

of the phone receiver

makes all the difference

When my belly's empty

and I'm about to collapse

Oh yeah, I already did!

I called you up

biting my lip

and you answered

on the second ring

enthusiastic about

some new job thing

I'm a foodie, I said

I noticed, you answered

I'm a girl with a BIG

appetite, who cares so much

about other people's well-being

that she burns out quicker than

a single sheet of paper

to a lighter's fine flame

when the going gets rough

her thin skin gets tough

what a shame!

After hell and back

there's no more of

the same

is there…?

What's left is but the ash

stuck to the bottom

of the bin in fine dust

and after hell has burnt me

to a crisp and worry seeps in

I try to not cry

but tears invade the corners

of my eyes

stinging and ringing

a fear so contrite

but if I avoid the things

that scare me

I'll never find freedom

and that's all my charred

feet want--release from

first time jitters--

and you're real

you're actually real

and that's the scariest part of all

it really is time now

to break down my wall
Jan 2017 · 571
How to Digest a Lover
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Loads of bubble wrap piled behind

and it crackles like how a stomach

gets twisted on itself after

eons of sleep

decoding it's diaphragm to follow

the blips and beeps and bleeps

encrusted on trusting

a tight gut reaction to

wanting to touch


But waiting is so difficult.

Loads of suds creep up

forming in cysts or scabs

upon stomach encasings

all slimy and orange inside

with a stretchy cover all

deep royal purple with

dark pink veins coursing

through it encoding the

rapture of film recording while

the lining inside gets all clammy

with arousal secretly clenching

this yearning and aching just

wanting to touch


But waiting is so difficult.

It's a difficult, messy procedure that leaves the body exposed if it comes in contact to actual skin and flush and heat and mucus but

it is a necessary step to

colloquial banter within

the clustering of organs all

internally arguing while the

overwhelmed brain tries to keep order and the genitalia hums

all quiet in the corner

because she knows she runs

the show.

And it's funny because the brain knows he'll have to give in to

the actual world of living folks

and climb out of his bundled

fabulous fantasies in order to

make reality plausible.

And in wanting you

and in waiting

I've found myself in visceral shock

to the point where I panic and

all that's jumbled up and bound inside me seems to clench tighter.

And I fear that in waiting for your mutual touch

and I fear that in wanting to be with you so much

I'll collapse under the weight

and never get up.

Loads of words hide beneath me

resting in tubes that resemble

the small intestines in looping

nests of unbridled questions.

Will it be enough to see you

and not touch you?

Will it be enough to talk

with you and not kiss you?

Will it be enough to be chaste

and respectful when all my brain needs to do is test you?

When all my brain wants to do

is clobber you whole, chew, then swallow, spitting out bones?
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

enlighten my senses

making them parallel to

round ***** of safety.

Ah! how those eyes

regurgitate and bounce

pupils widening whenever

my eyes meet their gaze

wavering and moving from

person to person in an intimate crowded group setting.

Ah! how those eyes

which resemble soft moss

or the slick flesh of kiwis

stare at mine catching like how

flypaper catches mosquitoes

accidentally but intentionally

awkwardly but inventively

and ultimately intentionally.

Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

throw me off balance

when they lock into mine

and for a good ten seconds

merging a little too long

unnoticed by the crowd.

Ah! how those eyes

are like ghosts in my

memories so valid and

plausible they seem to

drift yet knowing they

will be seen tonight

creates a fidgety hope

splintered and shaking

within this hubris heart.

Ah! how those eyes

are framed by the

curliest of lashes

so cute they bloom

ripe smiles within this

here empty chest cavity

which seems to be defeated

at the moment but somehow

waiting to witness

orbs of stegosaurus skin

shelled and shellacked and unbuckled am i

at just a smack.

Ah! how those eyes

are like a slap

to my psyche.

Every part a swirling mass

of unabridged uncertainty.

And no matter how it seems

those irises of gold and green

will always be downright dainty.
Jan 2017 · 881
Joplin Spider Stain
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
A bullet

so small and strong

struck right where

my lungs met.

Embedded itself

this insult of occult

fake tidings riding on

elitist ****** attitudes.

A bullet

or was it an insult?

Either way, I am plummeting

towards humiliation street

with my tail between my legs.

A bullet

was that woman's sharp words

cutting through my skin

like a paper cut gone berserk.

She was a joplin spider

stuck in a ditch

and I should have

smashed her spindly

weak legged body

under my heavy black boots

creating an **** stain

that looks like gunpowder

or left over oil

spilled over

with the utmost disrespect.
Jan 2017 · 481
The First Month of the Year
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
The first of any month

is strange like

the peeling of a

hard boiled egg

where the sharp shards

if shell get all

stuck up

in cold fingernails

and the rubbery white

sphere of molded egg

jiggles and slips

plopping hard

on the white tiled floor

but it never breaks

just keeps it's shape

staying whole and

rolling off past the kitchen

and onto the warm

living room rug

where it stays

stuck and melting

becoming one with

the ruby red color

like a round white eye

glaring up at the world

unable to blink.
Jan 2017 · 491
Horse Ride
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Riding this horse past oblivion

feeling wind shout past

sharp shoulder blades

long hair whipping strong

grinding both thighs

into these browning flanks.

This horse is built from

sticky pecan sugar

such spice sprinkled

and dusted whilst the rider

flits past us stream like

arrow fringes near the cusp

all harrowing and musky.

Horse of caramel and nuts

sticking together like childish

tar painted gold and copper

colors shining past in rounded

muscles as the horse pushes

through the gulch he glances down at us with coal inlaid eyes as rough as sandpaper against raw wood

trying not to get caught up

in sliced splinters but careful now

before the horse of brown mud

runs us down trampling us to

wet ****** pulp so wait until

he has settled down to sleep

and then we can climb the mountains by escaping his

cramped cave of dreams

which only reveals how tricky

slips can be.
Jan 2017 · 248
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
picture waves and waves

of golden condensation

swimming in this inner world

of velvet contemplation

bubbly quibbly bits

inside throwing fits

tossing and turning

continually yearning

not at all

what was expected

from you

a slurp

a gulp

a saucy stew

this tingly feeling

if only

you knew

resting gently

inside me

if only

you knew

pressing lightly

against me

if only

you knew

but who knows

maybe you do
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