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Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Pressing charge,
unplugging the worth you have in my heart,
Wicked, and deceitful,—would I seem saying,
"I love you with all my heart"

What haven't I loved long before you,
I've loved another; or rather a better
taste of you. Cloying; to a degree of natural ecstasy.
Scented ravenousness, so sweet by the first brim of
open lips connected.

I've had an affair with her, over the plain;
that seemed to be what we once had.
But still I could never start my day firstly without a
hint of you; yearning yourself down throat.

Enkindled by you both; though as the latter
proved herself, only in the first few times.
My bladder full to breaking point of a glutted
water balloon; hanging on a thin string.

The effect she had on me...

The effect of when I picked a latte coffee
over my traditional black brew.
WickedHope Feb 2022
Hands on my throat always crushing me down, putting me out, and turning me on
I don't know how you got here but won't you stay and laugh dear
Know one needs to know what we do when we're alone
She don't even miss you and he will never know
Intoxicatingly delicious, so much so it's suspicious
How can you taste so good when the flavor's all wrong
Not sure what I'm doing but I promise I won't stay long
Pin me, choke me, bruise me colorful until I'm pacified
Scream until your throat bleeds every time your heart beats
Necromancy not love, just enough to pretend we're alive
Our fingertips glow in red hot brands leaving us hissing
Cut open from sharp tongues clashing and kissing
Leave through the window never the door
Or you might knock again and ask me for more
Let's have an affair
XOXO George
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2021
Love for breakfast,
filling a cereal bowl of-
      confessions

Milk of her tears,
sugar piles of his affairs.
Biting into the Apple of:
  someone else's love

"Do you love me now,
and her later,"

She begged the question,
after she found texts of-
    a lover's liaison.
LONDIN Dec 2021
How am I dry
When years of anticipation are melting like a glacier?
All I’ve ever wanted
Is standing at the end of my bed
With his cold hands
pulling apart my thighs
So why am I fighting so hard
To get out of my head?
When he looked into my eyes
I saw guilt staring back at me.
When he kissed my lips,
He hated that they tasted unmistakably mine
And not of his lovers.
Our timings never been “okay”,
I should have taken that as a sign
To keep this a fantasy.
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