Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I've never met a woman
Who liked a ***** soft or dead
For that kind of flabby flesh
Not really liked by women's heads.

The rod has to be rod to please.
Just ask any woman.
If she's sincere, she'll tell
Softness belongs  in ****.
One of the complains that most women have is that they wish he had harder be him her husband of boyfriend.
Dean Jan 20
The building I live in, with a single room of sanctuary and safety.
Fireflies in the dark when the lights are out,
Polaroid pictures of treasured memories, of people I long to protect.
A gentle patter of rain, the drip, drip, drip of a leak on an open window.
A breeze of dew and humidity filling my nose, a golden beam illuminating me.
Rubber tires slowing in the puddles across the pavement.
I sing. A distraction.
i really like this website, i’m glad i found it when i did
Tint Jan 17
My bedroom is a trunk
walled by wood and cement box
This small space is where I sat
from the morning through the night
Sometimes it becomes the beach
and the ocean is what I see
And other times it is all happy
the scenery is something free
But most of the time it is just me
and the color is darker grey
All I see is past mistakes
A blank future that has no end
Have you seen a room of hate?
it's cold but burns
It burns the care
draft
Mia Kuhnle Dec 2018
Stuck
Swirled
Stamped
Ceiling of stars
Saturated dreams, not yet
Seizing the future, her, harbored in pink princess prints
Scribbled walls of verses, covered child yet without vain
Cemented in my mind, childhood bedroom I haven’t forgotten at all
Ceiling of stars, from above, I hope you don’t witness my fall.
A depiction of the first bedroom I remember as a child, with a ceiling covered in adhesive, glowing stars and walls covered in punchy princess wallpaper
Abednigo Mogale Oct 2018
We met in moonlight of July
Howling wolves dancing on grave yard stones
Twigs and broken spades
lay frozen in forgotten hollows.
The night shivered cold with the winter breeze
In the shadow of the night
The moonlight found its way through
My bedroom window.

She was dressed in sin and I in ****
Time knew that heaven and ****
Were on a the verg of collision
Her spoken words found the warm
Flesh on my skin
Paralyzed by the sound of her whispers
my breathing intensified.

She left as quick as she came
I laid cold and alone
Curled into myself like fetus in the ****
I was robbed of innocence
My deed an unforgivable sin.
Lydia Sep 2018
being in love makes it all better
but being in love with you
makes it the best
I can't get enough when you touch me
your fingers send electricity across my skin
and my body falls into you
like it's going home
nothing makes me feel the way you do by just kissing me
my body burns
begging to feel you
heaven is our bedroom when you and I are in it
the world fades away
and it's just me and you
the comfort in giving all of myself to you
transcends back to me
V Aug 2018
The room we shared our
first laughs in, our first hugs,
our first touches, our first kisses.

   Wasn't it precious?
grounded in reality but
fulfilled through fantasy.

   the shallow breaths we both shared,
the way our bodies pressed together,
discovering one another
and learning the bounds of
our movements,
the curves of our hips and
tides of our love,
the way our bodies responded
to our words, our lips, our tongues.

  the bedroom is where we gave
ourselves to one another, the
place where we could share
that of our deepest secrets and desires,
the place where I felt safe with you.

don't you remember that?
you must, if not, maybe it
was im fact memories grounded
in fantasy instead of
memories grounded in reality.
Lily Jul 2018
When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And look down,
I see the big old air conditioner compressor,
Rusty after decades of use
In Michigan’s sometimes-90s summers.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And glance left,
I see the faithful church,
Where I’ve spent almost as much of my life in as this house,
Where I’ve met my best friends.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And view right,
I see the standard size basketball hoop,
That I’ve dribbled under my whole life,
That has seen countless children attempt at its rim.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And overlook the church’s parking lot,
I see the large backyard,
Where I’ve kicked innumerable soccer *****,
And dug limitless snow forts.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And gaze into the past,
I see you and me,
Riding around in that PowerJeep,
And that dent we put in the church.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And contemplate what’s in the present,
I see the crooked basketball hoop,
The steeple that lost its cross,
And the dead tree we don’t have the heart to tear down.

When I’m looking out my bedroom window,
And focus on the future,
I see a million different scenarios
Playing out in my head,
And I don’t even know which one I want.

All I know is nothing’s
Going to get done now,
My future isn’t going to be decided,
My life isn’t going to make itself,
While I’m just gazing out my bedroom window.
Next page