the men I crave
speak blunt,
wanting me for
my poetry persona,
strength sheer as a cliff,
me to be their tour guide to the edge,
my sexuality unabashedly to be their owing

they speak plain,
believing directness
is an aphrodisiac for me,
my style, direct unvarnished,
so that must be whom I am, surely

but they err deep grievously

I do love my poets so, the
ones, soft spoke, genteel, feeling
using first, no never, guile, words harmonizing,
softening the edges so smoothly rough necessary
for me to protect, confounding the harsh takers,
who never think to ask, never cradle, stroke,
don’t go below, see deeper that my nerves
are feminine, that pink is but a color,
that anyone could love, not an
invitation, a philosophy of
automatic surrender

now you know why I write poems,
to understand better the heart human,
ferret out the chaff, the bad, for everyone else.

#brandychanning

A heart that craves for loves sweet embrace,
for all joy that such love entails.
A mind that bears the scars and wounds,
of when trust and belief in love yet fails.

A heart that longs for shared joy and warmth,
entwined with the passion of one who cares.
Weighted by all the hurt and sad lonely memories,
in a mind that remembers a love it no longer dares.

To love again hearts and minds war is fought,
and frequently though trust in love yet prevails.
Through mind ever conscious there is no one,
the thought by which it constantly assails.

It is said that the saddest love is of an unrequited kind,
and that it leads a soul to deep despair.
Yet I know this to be false for the saddest love,
is to crave love with all you are and to have no one ...
in love to share.

Felt your warmth only in my dreams
and yet i crave your touch so much,
the pain is almost physical.

-parthenope

in the nights
i wake up
not being able to sleep
because i've been craving your body
for too long now
but desperately knowing
your soul is long gone now

you liked my body,
yet rejected my mind.

I craved conversation,
yet you desired touch.

I shared my thoughts,
yet you shared unsolicited provoking pictures.

you wanted secret hookups at midnight,
yet denied picnics at noon.

and yet, I still thought you were different.

I crave consumption,
An urge to purge,
To cease all function,
To rid the the world
Of the destruction caused by me.
I crave consumption,
I crave to undo this liability