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3.1k · Nov 2015
Mind Smut
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into
your smart, ethical decisions while I touch
quite gently
ripping to shreds
your photon ends.

Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows
until they blow out of proportion
merging your interests with mine
like the longing of eyes
uncanny in its distortion.

Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions
ideas slipping carefully into place
like a sterile, unflinching blank slate
inching towards computed devotion.

Dear, let me carry out some foreplay
as long as you bend, not break,
delightfully stroking the edge of your plate.

Dear, let me come so close to your face
so close that it becomes blurry.

Where are my glasses in all this flurry?

Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire
shooting flames out the window
beyond everything you’ve ever known;
beyond anything you desire.

Dear, let me kiss you to submission,
your brain waves in motion
as I twist and slip into them
hormones ablaze
lighting up for days
your synapses recapturing
in a binocular haze.

Dear, let me flop on top of you
like a floppy disk, uploading your lips
into my hardrive.

Do I make you hard as fire?

Slowing burning
my hot fingers curling
up your robust spine
cracking it into
chiropractor sublime.

Massaging your tired broad shoulders
like large sofa ends.

Is this keyboard only
made for pretend?

Dear, let me mind *******
take you and light you
brighten your screen
uphold and unseen
neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words
directly into the folds of your tulip ears
too large to hear, and

Dear, let me engage my rage
into a productive haze
bolting out words, unheard of for days.

Dear, let us become undone together
like the battery of a computer
rebooting after a hectic hardware phase.

Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.
3.0k · Nov 2015
Brain Porn
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil.

Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe.

Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking.

Incinerating flames that lick the grate.

Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same.

Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice,

My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind.

Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you.

Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff.

Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality.

Let me get to know you and all your originality.

Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions.

Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time.

Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ******* your sense of self-esteem.

Dear, let me dream your dreams.

Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain.
Don’t let the pressure get to you.

Passion may play a key part in the sway!

Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives.

Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes.

Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions.

Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods.

Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom.

Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst!

Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent.

Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy!

Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses.

Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words.

Dear, let me dance with your intelligence
until we sink into oblivious mind-*** bliss…….
2.4k · Oct 2015
Rebirth
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Ages pass
and
shells of resistance
shrivel up and die
leaving a fresh new chrysalis
resting in their place.
Like a shiny newborn baby
wiping the crust from its eyes
with tiny curled hands
fingernails as small as sand
and
love of life
has wedged its way
beyond all hints of
**** negativity
and
the only way forward
is found
before the sun even rises.
2.3k · Nov 2015
Untitled
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
Seeing your face

                  is like diving straight

                                              into a bowl

                                                       of Lucky Charms cereal

                                                         ­                    that's only the marshmallows.
2.3k · Jan 2017
Black Cat
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
There's a black cat

walking flat,

his back feet

dipped in

marshmallow droppings.

His tail flicks

like a reed in the swamp,

and he can't

help but run through legs

swiftly

hopping on furniture

daintily

belly all soft and white.

Silent is he,

catching the almost-full moon

in his bright whiskers.

Padded paws,

a black tail snaking

twitching as he

squeezes to rest

in tight spaces

wide eyes as green as

a kiwi fruit

with the seeds cut out.

He bats his toy freely,

ears up then

hears a rustle

at the screen door

and sits

transfixed

but only

for a moment.
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.
2.0k · Oct 2015
The Rock
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
The ocean crashes and I dodge jellyfish
carcasses, bloated, white and ****** like
loose spittle, drenched across the sticky sand.
I hop over this dead thing, so limp, so fragile.
Then, I see it. A black shine. A giant pupil.
Turn it ‘round in my hands and the rock is
smooth as plastic feels when wet.
Black, contrast, battered soft and hard
by the tumultuous waves that had
birthed it from existence into a sandy, shallow grave.
Oblong, like and oval smashed,
I slip the rock into my pocket,
sinking pink toes into mushy
wetness as the salty water laps at my thighs,
chilling them.
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
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
1.6k · Oct 2015
Bike
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Greased wheels, I knew you once.
I loved to balance like a child.

Roaming the paved streets; riding is like flying.

I knew you when the store held you back.
I chose you from behind handlebars with purple streamers.

Your tires silently carried me to classes,
each brake stop signaled that we were close to our arrival.

I sat on your worn black seat like I was on a throne of sorts.
Even though that seat is tattered with one rip on the side,
all I saw in you was my own **** pride.

Spokes, I knew you once.
I played your tune each journey that we went on.
No hill was ever tall enough, no road was ever too bumpy.

Gears, I knew you once.
Click, Lock, Click
sometimes you were tight and never let me ride
sometimes you were loose and my feet went flying ‘round too fast for me to catch
                     what you were doing.

I knew you once, when time was young.
1.4k · Jan 2016
Rise and Shine
Sienna Luna Jan 2016
Waking up
Is the best thing
a person can do.
Milk and cereal;
Empty-headed thoughts.
crunching,
With swallows.
Humanity
At the beginning.
Scribbles made
By one fine woman
Who knows who she is.
Waking up
Is the best thing
a person can do.
1.3k · Oct 2015
Glasses
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Square planes of glass separate me from the bristling trees,
as tall as they seem,
bursting from the ground the glasses flicker,
then gleam.
Striped like the thick rings,
they sing they sing they sing.
Hiking by myself,
gazing at clean air and a sense of free fall.
See the bay across the way.
Let the greenness seep into my weary clothes
and now I know
how these square planes of grass see,
(through me…)
1.3k · Oct 2015
The Cobra Dance
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
I am a cobra,
spiraling upwards.
Curling and slinking.
I am a cobra;
dangerous.
fangs dripping,
head dipping
lower
and lower
and lower.
Until I break up
and tilt my
forward.
Forked tongue
slips out.
I hiss away
all my doubt.
Folding my lanky, tall body
to fit my lengthy  personality.
I am a cobra,
and I do a sultry dance.
I will not shake or dodge or prance.
I linger after every thought,
slip my way into the cold spongy grey tiled dance floor
until you cannot see me anymore.
I am a cobra,
you’d better watch out.
Sparkling white scales,
they shimmer softly in the moonlight.
A young
destroyer of worlds,
I take over the floor
and curl inwards,
then up,
then lift my floppy head
bristled all about.
I smile and sway,
then lick up the blood.
I am a cobra,
(so you’d better watch out).
1.2k · Dec 2015
Compost
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
Mention the somber
thread of life
linking us together.
Mention the spill of coffee grinds
plummeting on the sticky ground.
Mention the call of hope
being or freeing
a sort of melancholic sound.
Melanin or mulch,
today is a process showing too much.
The brush of time slows,
as predicament distracts from progress,
yet there is something nice between us
and it flowers like small purple
morning glories at dawn.
1.2k · Oct 2015
Venus Fly Trap
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
There is a stirring in my chest,
an elation I will not and cannot resist.
There was once a moment where all of life stood still
and my feet grew heavy
barren heavy.
Completely empty
and ready to fall.
There is a fire down below
where the depths of sight can’t grow.
It still feeds off my worried brain
like a fetus planted hover-vein.
The Venus Fly Trap sets its will
spiked teeth ready, for the ****.
There is a place where spider webs
and crawling things fit for nub ebb.
All my flagrant floppy body
deteriorates, demotivates, deregulates
into a monster of the fiendish kind
one where holographic glass goes blind.
there is a feed that ***** in silt
it still eats grits, their shiny pelt
slimy, sloshes, ready, in
frigid waters’ under-grin.
Come follow me, dear Venus Trap
into a submarine unsnap
there is a blooming in my groin
where dead things lay there
shivering.
1.1k · Jan 2017
Thaumaturgy
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Sparkly like strings of

red garlands

there lives a little

dustball man

in my lower abdomen

rubbing his tiny

warm hands together

in complete delight.

Always singing

the silliest of songs

his round chubby cheeks

flaming bright pink

just thinking of our kiss

last night behind the dumpster.
1.1k · Dec 2015
Bass
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
the instrument that he plays
is a bass
and I got it all wrong
until tonight
then I realized
that it fits his personality perfectly

all smooth curves
emitting a deep thrum
brown shellac wood
large like he is and
why did I not actually picture it
correctly until just
a moment ago
not knowing quite
how to feel

and this is a strange
upheaval of the senses

and this is a strange
revelation

so obvious in its answer
yet changes everything

and I fight a growing urge
to be bound within
the tight confines of his brain
the strings of love pulled taught
unveiling the maroon curtain
pulling away the burgundy drape
finding words in which to contemplate
this obscene existence
showing nothing
yet revealing everything while
carefully shoving my memories
somewhere deep in the
rhythmic trenches

where his somber music plays.
1.1k · Jan 2016
Velociraptor
Sienna Luna Jan 2016
It waits
for the exact moment
to lunge at its prey
hidden in the ferns and fauna
fangs like butcher knives
lodged deep in its throat
a gurgling sound is heard
through the dark shot of brush
whistling the trembling leaves.
And there’s not one or two,
but three of them, crouched low
so near to me that I can hear
their heavy reptilian nostrils
breathing in and out
they are my nightmares
ready to devour
but I am not scared
because they are only vicious creatures
in a dream
and I am a dinosaur wrangler
and I know what I’m doing.
1.0k · Dec 2015
Untitled
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
Chipper as a wood chopper
doused with kerosene lamp oil
at the start of the chilly winter
all bundled up in a fantasy getaway
deep in the wooded forrest lies my pride all cozy-like.
987 · Nov 2015
Sleeves
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
Something about you
draws me in
from higher depths
I sway in disguise
to the pulse of 90s music videos
displaying on the screen
remembering the pulse
of my heart
as I look upon your bright face
vibrant with taste
or concentration
pouring coffee
precisely
right after the buzzer beeps
your new haircut strenuously
framing the corners of your
maleness
each strand a cut
into the interworking of
your hazardous blue eyes
rimmed in ribbon spit
a sci-fi adventure
daring to quit but
it always gets better
somehow
somewhere
deep in these depths
I no longer despair
but three plump days
stand in my way
after the promotion
after your life
getting back into motion
will you remember me
will you miss me
in any way
on hallows eve
like the brush of a sleeve
or the bunch of tight buttons
securing so fast my feeling that
I ache or admire
bind or perspire
muck in the mire
just to hear your handsome voice
as cheerful as sunbeams
cascading up and down my spine
like the thieves of dreams
bounding inside so merrily
hopeful for your attention
967 · Nov 2015
The Hierophant
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
so, here I am
and there you are

a wise man once told me
that it’s only coffee

and each day has its struggles
but when I met you
it all made sense
somehow

it’s strange, this feeling
of inner freedom

a clarity branched off from
the clairvoyant passage
******* skyward
******* lowered
to the ground below
where spontaneity happens
when least expected

I secured something of innate value
deep within these thrombin-riddled valves
the chambers of the heart
now pumping out fresh blood
like a healed wound
that the moon vampire would be proud of

so here I am
and there you are

a person well beyond what my
feeble writer’s mind could conjure up
on any given day
head in the clouds
just wishing for love to lightly fall
at my feet like footprints in snow or sand
and I wonder
why these heavy footprints
have not been blown away
by the chilling winds of winter’s calling
and I wonder
why I’m still waiting
for a look

just one look
that says it all
paired with words
of mutual understanding
bound together
a wave of pressure
between us
woman and man and
young questions
begin stirrings
rhythmic and pulsing
deep within my static brain waves
edging me closer
to you

so here I am
and there you are

The Hierophant
with your
gold and silver crown
leading me straight to

comfort.
926 · Oct 2015
Sharp Scissors
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Becoming something of a legend
cast out from far away
alone in a castle upon the darkened hill
lives the person of today.
Trapped.
Long ago you vowed
to become something grand
one day you shall release
slip out without a sound.
Cursed forever loner
you live within these walls
invisibly Confined
and break away you shall.
The corrugated gates
of your own sharp sexuality
awaiting the clerical moment
when the barren gates break open
by kiss you shall be free.
And spill forth forbidden riches
whatever they may be.
But you are a vastly legend
alone
kingdom come is your only home.
Blackened night is your frame of mind
color buried iced sublime.
A ghostly haunting
in tight black leather clasps
in cold clipped metal chains
you snip your way
you slice your path
though through the peril
grace is slain.
Past the autumn winds
winter seeks its call.
You are a complex monster
who loves it most of all.
Confined inside your castle
you might hear the call.
Collecting cobwebs
Collecting dust
Collecting heartache
Collecting rust
So the edges start to fray
and in each corner that you find
lives a hope that soon one day
you’ll have some piece of mind.
To be loved beyond what mortal words can say.
918 · Jan 2016
Sit and Recline
Sienna Luna Jan 2016
Going to sleep
is the best thing
a person can do.
After a long day of work
just slip under the covers
clean, wrinkled, soft and daring
the night a comfortable pillow
in which to rest sleepy tired eyes
while finishing a dystopian sci-fi movie
taking place in the desert.
Furiosa takes the night
across her shoulders
black engine grease smeared
across her forehead as Mad Max
rides shotgun
before the heat consumes them.
Enjoying every sand crusted
machine cranked thrusted
water tank bomb shell.
She is the best kind of heroine
taking complete control
of the current situation.
But sometimes there’s a break
when the dusk becomes depth
merging into the white halo of moon
slivered like a cut thumbnail
just hanging there, lifeless.
And this is when
the truth becomes
completely apparent.
Resting one’s body
after a tough week
of physical and emotional sickness
becomes first priority
where relaxation nods its weary head
to slumber under a pile of blankets.
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.
Sienna Luna Jan 2016
as the lyrical string music plays
I can feel your arousal in me as it sways
burning so bright and hot like the sun
scorching each pathway
through the cold trees’ crisp dun
as your mouth opens
and I reach mine inside it
so soft and so warm
I attach my soul to it
and dive deep in the swarm
as the music lulls louder
giving no push
your hands brush my waistline
your ribs brush my bust
your nose bumps my faceline
and I blush
and I blush
rivulets of passion
muted and such
melody’s sharp sliver
of a sheer wanton clutch
after all that we’ve been through

I never oh never
thought I’d love you so much
881 · Jan 2017
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.
873 · May 2016
Cybernetic Symphony
Sienna Luna May 2016
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
cannot
distinguish.
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
somehow
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

again.

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.
850 · Jan 2017
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.
842 · Jan 2017
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



melted.



(I guess my heart was tamed.)
795 · Oct 2015
The White Buddha
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
The White Buddha sits
like a soft-boiled egg,
shining rusted copper
in the snow.
Covered with
a blend of
powder and tears
the White Buddha
ponders
life's true meaning.
As people come and go
and winter turns to Spring,
the White Buddha
is no longer white,
but
green, green,
                   green.
The Green Buddha sits
a smile stretched
between
two copper cheeks.
The White Buddha
sleeps.
While the Green Buddha dreams...
791 · Jan 2017
Men to Match My Mountains
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Wandering

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

Wondering

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.
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.
733 · Jan 2017
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.
722 · Feb 2017
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.
674 · Dec 2015
Untitled
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
Boom Boom Boom
my top beats shutter
becoming blush capades
Boom Boom Boom
my heart blasts blank
out every audible sound like
a rupture of the
greatest strum
you were a bass player
and that sounds like so much fun
Boom Boom Boom
better clean up the remnants
of this room
‘cause when I’m done
there’ll be puddles
Boom Boom Boom
my sphincter holds
then releases on tune
turning sparks on par
to quell the gloom
Boom Boom Boom
I’m so fucken into you dude.
670 · Jan 2017
THE END OF 2016
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.
654 · Jan 2017
Still Waters
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
You are still waters that run deep;

a challenge some may say.

But to me, your closed emotions

are like a test to see



if I can crack you open.



You're not one to spill your secrets

yet every time we talk

whether it be cellular device

or heart to heart in person

I notice



(for intrinsically I notice everything hidden and important not seen with the naked eye)



I notice you slip

some of your most shielded

vulnerabilities

and I catch them

with soft cold hands



(because for some reason or other my hands are always cold)



with soft cold hands warmed

by your toasty rough ones warmed

by your sensible muttering warmed

by your discreet aspirations warmed by your witty attitude.



I like that we can be waggish

together like two jesters

high strung.



My facetious view on life is somewhat wrought with doubt.



My senseless family drama scaling backwards for months on end.

Return is what I want; a sense of peacefulness whereas I'm pulled into the flighty nature of my parents' inconsistencies and my aunts' finicky nature when all I want is for everyone to get along.



You have your barriers drawn and  sometimes and I don't mind it.



We are emotional opposites, bouncing off each other like ping pong *****, but in this scenario it works because we've both got paddles and are willing to play.



That's what I see in you.

An ever-eager possibility;

passionate in your politics,

loyal to your friends,

leader in some circumstances

when I am at a loss for words.



And you spark a sort of electric chord within me, plugging right into my frontal lobe, sparking my interest, lighting up my receptors.



My neurons have never been this happy before; I have never in my life had a romantic reciprocal relationship like this before.



Nothing has prepared me for this.

This floundering of feelings, sloppy, spilling, leaking out of the cauldron every time we speak.



You are boiling broth, a frothy drink I've put up to my lips and sipped from, a drink I did not order but delightful all the same.



You are still waters that run deep;

a sensual spice of parsley or dill that can lighten up any dish;

and it doesn't take a genius to see how much I need a person like you in my life to challenge every predisposition of romance I've seen, read, fantasized or imagined.



Caught in the slipstream of figuring out my future after the new year has yet to arrive. There's still so much to work out; there's still so much hope I have brimming inside me even after my confessions, even after I've asked for forgiveness and complacency.



Where there's hope and forgiveness, there's also peace.



Maybe all it took was the repetition of swimming pools in dreams this past week to understand where I stand. I'm not drowning anymore.

I'm on the edge of the pool looking into clear waters, finding the wise guide of my blue water dragon

and his humongous whiskered face

staring straight at me, into me, telling me that I have all the strength I need to overcome the obstacles. I need not cling to fear any longer. I need not hide away, like I've done in the past, behind thick curtains to blot out the light.



My only constant now is the sun rising and the moon waning.



You are still waters that run deep;

a sure-bound belief



that everything will be okay.
641 · Feb 2017
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

again

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

away

whenever i'm around you

and it's exhausting
608 · Oct 2015
Systematic Heartfailure
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
There’s a time in the heart
where all things go to rust
and to forget
is not the path
to forgiveness.
When one hand claps
the world falls down.
Little strings
old sheer tissues lob off and peel away
creating a raw clean mess
that can only be healed by a new love.
So for now
the heart only feels what it wants to feel
empty as a plastic cup.
Clear clouded calamity.
So far away is the future
murky as the waters that puff in the wind
away they go, singing out into eternity.
605 · Dec 2015
Dark Dwelling
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
Red buds or beams flicker across my chest
lined and ready like a velvet-lined coffin
for me to take an infinite rest in.
Lips a bright cherry color
but it’s blood that’s caked.
Ruby gems in each earhole
flickering in the cave’s scarce light.
But I’m not dead yet
---just coming back to life---
605 · Nov 2015
Oranges
Sienna Luna Nov 2015
if I had to choose my last breath
i’d choose it with you
and only fantasies create
a sort of granule gargantuan glee
if i had to choose between
letting go of fear
and touching you
i’d choose you every time
if i had to rebuttal the claims
of my own body insecurities
i’d let go of them
for you
if i had to challenge myself
beyond a thousand measures
go past fear itself
i’d do it for you
and maybe it will take forever
but i’m willing to make the case
of loving you so gently
i’m at ease with the whole world around me
and i just keep thinking of
oranges hanging loosely in a plastic net
just dangling about to
plop down on the shiny wood
floor clean of dirt or
rest them lightly on the white
porcelain kitchen counter
without a care in the world
because that’s how you make me feel
unbound and synchronized like
the clunk of a VHS tape
fitting nicely into place
re-wound and ready
for the movie to start

and if i had a wide choice of manly lovers
i’d choose you every time

you’re not what i expected
for a woman in her prime
588 · Jan 2017
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

admiring
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.
577 · Jan 2017
Untitled
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.
571 · Jan 2017
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



you.



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



you.



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?
569 · Oct 2015
New Friend
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Who are you
but a spark in my bone matter
a bright ball of
green energy bouncing around
the ocean blue of my heart
residing in some sort of residual
cave of dreams that I conjured up
many nights in a row
many long
barren months ago
under the influence of sleep
your tall shadow frame
blocking the view
and my hearth of alacrity
bounding out so true
for what it’s worth, new friend,
you really have me moved.
560 · Apr 2016
Dubious & Wilted
Sienna Luna Apr 2016
Losing control of the brighter things
that sit and smirk at me as
the twilight immerses itself
in the faint glimmers of reality.
Hold that fractured frigid shock
to myself so tight
it breaks and shatters
vomiting sterilized pom poms
laced with chocolate sticky kisses.
Struck me, Lick me, Luck my
humble circumstances as they dance
on the roof of my mouth
chilly strange deadly
turns to muck in the shmuck
at the corner of my brain.
In one moment I’m there
the next, I’m insane.
Minutes switch by slowly as the
natural drugs kick in
enlightening my sense of well-ebbing stretches
into a glass of string.
555 · Apr 2016
Defeated By Life
Sienna Luna Apr 2016
Defecated, or did I say defeated
fated to live this life
barren as loose shoe strings
fraying a little at the ends.
Like a torn T-shirt
I am covered in holes and stains
splotches that just don’t
seem to go away.
Defeated in the mere inches I take
or the hearts that I break

but the only heart I break is my own.
How to pick up the pieces
when I am
piece-less
peaceless, no peace here.
So all I do is clench and worry
and hope that one day defeat
might become a feat
that can actually go somewhere
move someplace out of reach
as I seem to speak
of dreams unaccomplished and maimed
of dreams inferred striking infrared filters
that whisper mere fragments
of my name.
525 · Mar 2017
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.
513 · Feb 2017
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
escape

warming the cockles of this here mongrel heart

vast into infinity.

What a funny little cuddle jamboree!
508 · Feb 2017
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.
508 · Jan 2017
Untitled
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.
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