i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

Can I not take

A compliment

Without questioning

Whether he means it

Look into the mirror

See what his eyes believe

Sees me as it is

Red lips he wants to kiss.

True love takes .
For your happiness you must learn
to take love not give it away .
You become rich in love the more you take .
Have you ever heard of the saying ,
"The Power Of Love" .
That means as you hoard others love
you become powerful in love .
A powerful lover is Jesus .
He takes your love and gives you life .
You will too by taking others love
you give them life .

maybe the secret to their love was that they didn't know they were in love

I recently got reminded... Oh how I am caught
In a delicate web of disillusions
Make me see what is actually not
Make invisible my heart's secret questions

Been successful in putting aside all grief
But truth has it's way to make you pay
You can bury all grievances; you can mask all disbelief
But it'll all catch up; these things you've kept at bay

Make your silly compromises
To have the the best you just make allowances
Keep up your futile pretences
Accommodate your selfish preferences

Day had dawned where each question need their answer
Questions I've shrugged and left unaddressed
Indistinguishable when fact and fiction begin to blur
When dreams and reality have coalesced

Tonight I lay with the load I bring
Body asleep with my heart fully awake
Blessing or curse, this rude awakening
Decisions and choices left for the following suns to make

Cliche about love.
Cliche about depression.
Cliche about death.

Semi-clever play on words.
Stolen line, weak metaphor.

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Mediocrity complete.

My couch is a wasteland,
Pulls me down, I cannot stand.
It scares me that I’m drawn to gore,
I see destruction, I want more.
I don’t know if its anger,
Or if it’s something stranger.
I want to shatter glass,
I need to make this feeling pass.
I want to throw things and scream,
I want to get out of this dream.
Running isn’t satisfying,
I feel like I need to break something.