Akira 23h

Though impossible
I wished for something tonight
For you to be mine

MyDystopiA Aug 7

I think of you much,
it’s intense and intense I am
so tense when I think
because the longing is immense
and it makes no sense

so I go retreat in defeat
patiently awaiting
the heat of your glow,
the spark of your touch,
a royal blue rush.

Like a moth to your flame
I fly into your sun,
I crash, I burn,
I yearn,
the ocean turns
forever undone.

©J C MyDystopiA

There is a sky outside that I want no part of.

I know that once I speak through the cracks, the glass will give way and my voice will catch in the wind,



and you will fear my flash floods and you will leap over puddles and you will refuse to be caught up in the rain even though it is you that I weep for.

MyDystopiA May 9

Little big blue eyes,
moonlight dream,
sexy sweet,
makes me want to creep
beneath her sheets
when she teases me
photographically.

They're predicting electric
in the sky
the day we meet
and I see electric
in her eyes
when we greet.

Let me inside,
let me be your guide,
take you there
to the other side,
hold my hand,
spoon with me,
move with me,
perfect rhythm,
harmony.

Such a sweet song
we'll together sing
when two become one.
Me into you,
you into me,
beyond bliss,
infinity we'll go,
touch the sky,
swim in moonlight,
unite
your mind with mine.

Start a fire in my heart,
make me burn in desire
to go further and further
across your lines
not yet defined.
Let me get lost
down below,
leave a mark
on your heart,
not a stain,
art.

I want to kiss you softly,
lose time in your eyes,
ocean blue,
two beautiful lagoons.
I'll hold your hand.
I'll make you laugh.
I'll buy you ice-cream.
I'll walk with you
watching the sunset,
stopping awhile
to fall in love
to the sound of waves
crashing distant.

A kiss on your cheek
is all I dare
until you pull me in
asking for more.
I can't resist
the heat of your fire,
engulfed in flaming desire
I run into the sea reflected,
cool, calm, collected you are
while me
I'm on the edge of my seat,
pacing my longing away
waiting to pray at your feet.

I want to paint
my words all over you,
every colour,
every hue.

©J C MyDystopiA

MyDystopiA May 9

I yearn for you.
I burn for you.
Confirm you feel it too
because
I burn right through.

The torch inside
you have ignited.
My sordid mind
craves to creep,
deep inside
between the thighs.

Delirious,
I am rapt in a wondrous vision.
I overheat at your mystique.
So obscure,
you upturn my world.

In between your sheets,
I long to be...
monomania
gets the better of me.

I long to go deep,
all the way in...
choke on my lust
as I explode within.

I aim to please,
I like to tease
arch your back
as I enter
undone I come
once inside,
no longer shy,
pull on my hair
as I define you
with my kiss.

There is no end
to the want within,
animalistic desire,
endless images
steam up my mind.

Under my skin,
undone once again,
I awaken with your kiss,
a beautiful mist.
I implode
at the sweetness
in your lips.

How vast can this pleasure be?

Nothing to lose,
I lay my cards out to you...
be mine,
sweet Valentine.
I'd never leave you blue
to you always
would my heart be true.
One hell of a muse,
I could definitely use.

Flying now
inside my mind,
pining
to have you by my side,
undressed
in stockings and a smile.
Cross the line, don't be shy.

The thought of you...
my blissful insanity,
my yellow moon,
the bird upon which
a dying hope soars.

Intertwine your mind,
help me unwind,
help me to define
all it is I feel inside.

Whisper in my ear
when you are near
sweet syllables sending
shivers down my spine,
sweet nothings
making me weak at the knee.

I burn up inside
as kinky thoughts occupy.
Usually, I'm shy
not so sexually inclined.
You awake my fire and
I drown in desire.

©J C MyDystopiA

MyDystopiA May 9

I want you so bad
I crave it in my sleep.
The feeling is deep,
unique,
the way you tease,
the way it pleases.

I want so bad to
see you peak
as I push you there
between your legs.
I drink the sweetest
honey of your honey bee.
I drown in you
complete.

I want you naked
in stockings,
high-heeled and kneeling,
orally pleasing.
I want your light,
your dark,
your inner whore.
I want to fuck you
wildly, completely,
uniquely.

I want to be the one
who leaves you undone.
The one in your words,
The one
who makes you come.
I moan with desire
at the thought
of your touch.
I think of your flower
and I long to devour.

Pretty pretty,
delicate flower
such an honour
I long to explore,
endlessly,
hour after hour.

©J C MyDystopiA

You were thinking about God all night. If only you could without suffering sin, you’d swear it was true. Prayers clung to the gloss on your lips. You’d shaken your hair loose from the day’s mistakes, apologized for those that you chose to remember. But still, your body was a live wire.

Your fingers were knotted up in the chain of your grandmother’s cross when your first stranger offered you a drink. His smile boasted of layover stays in European cities, of glassy-eyed girls spread just for him, all neat and pretty on a silk duvet. You swallowed down your fears and let him order for you, just nodding his way so he wouldn’t get to hear your voice. A scotch on the rocks to ease your nerves, you reassured Him, and nothing more.

Let me slip into something a little more comfortable…you breathed easier in a strapless dress, a tight skin of black satin worth half of a month’s rent and all of your dignity. Eyes you didn’t recognize skimmed over more of your body than you let your own mother see. The little girl she raised would have been afraid. The good Lord Himself was a skeptic, a dwindling shadow of a doubt still stuck in the doorway. …She’s so exposed, can she really offer any more parts of herself to the world, or has it all gone?

You’d just gotten done with praying for the damned when one of them shows up at your feet to thank you. You try to forget. You don’t want to remember that you asked for her in your sleep. She is a gift…not from God. You feel as you would have if you had seen her naked. Her white dress wraps high enough around her neck to make you second-guess your hands.

Touch…The thought hits you like a freight train and makes you sway. She laughs, guess I shouldn’t have gotten you this drink, huh? You’re halfway finished with the glass she gave you before you tell her you’re okay.

A hangover may keep you from church in the morning.

Just seemed like you needed to unwind.

God would have healed your heart then. Only you start to think now that the pain of someone else may be what keeps you alive.

Maybe a dance will help.

Her hand is warm as she leads you out onto the floor. Instead of letting go, her fingers squeeze the spaces in between yours. She leans in so she can hear you speak above the pounding of the bass. When she tosses her hair, she smells soft, like fresh roses. You feel her thorns press into your sides like the fingernails digging into your chest, and the pain breathes new life into you.

She dances up against you with her body like a hurricane. The shallow breaths against your neck are no longer just that. They are howling gusts, a swirling mass of a storm that comes to life in glaring black-and-white headlines, “disaster of the ages”, “the bullet you can’t outrun”. They are screaming at you to get a grip before you crash to the ground, another casualty in her wake.

Her hand swims up your dress to touch you between your thighs. You let her. It’s okay. You ease into her, let your eyes roll back for her. You kiss her unholy, her tongue tasting like redemption. The strokes of her fingers take you as close to Heaven as you’ll ever get.

Forgive me, Father, for I am sin.

Her hair may smell like sweet summer rain and her smile always settles weirdly in your stomach, but she is poison. She is a toxic cocktail garnished with cigarette smoke that reminds you of the night you came too close to kissing her. She is unattainable, she is right beside you and yet your fingertips cannot ever quiver hard enough to close the gap between you and her.

You crave her so desperately. You would be humbled to fall apart for her. At her feet, you’d make your bed, and there you would stay all alone through the night, dreaming of how she swore she’d come back for you. There you will stay while the dawn filters in through the drapes, while the sharp rays of early morning light are all that is there for you to blame for your tears. She will not come back because boys will be boys, with their tousled hair and heavy brows and all of their hard edges, and she will love them for that. No matter how hard she bleeds before he gives way for her, she will melt into him.

She wears your sorrows like a dress gown. You tell her past the knot in your throat that she looks gorgeous. Your palms itch; it takes everything in you to not smooth down the ripples in the fabric around her hips. Her night skin’s being shed by calloused hands within her first hour out at the bar. And in a few hours’ time, she’s battling her hangover with her head in your lap while you comb through the mess of her hair and tell her that she still deserves better. She says she knows that already.

What she doesn’t know is that you do, too.

to any girl who's ever fallen for her straight best friend…you will find love, and she will be brilliance unlike you've ever seen before. xxx

3 morning kisses
eyes glitter like dew -
fresh and new -
still drunk from sleep
and unrelenting love

soft pink lips
warm breath sighs
and lashes flutter shut
milky eyes are slits
and sleepy desire stirs

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