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In a whisper
Is how I’ll go,
Further drifting
Static as snow.

The less that they know,
The more honor I’ll keep,
Dragging my last thoughts
Into an endless last sleep.

Don’t break the glass
I don’t want to wake,
No matter the violence of your shake
Let me rest, let me stay.

In a whisper,
The last words carried
Kissing your ears by way of zephyr
This is how I’ll go,
Further drifting,
Static as snow.

As dreams start to fade
Replaced with the infinite black
Silence echoes memories
Like ghosts haunting holographic.

Catch the syncopated beats
As my heart drums to a stop.
A beat for your heart strings
Now play the music to send me off
A reverie of soft melodies
As you lower me, under the oak trees.

In a whisper,
Under canopies
Is how I’ll go,
Will you remember me?
You ever have a dream that you’re going to die? I did and before I go back tk bed I had to write it out.
There’s a scent of trouble in the night air
Here in this blue-black pitched alley
Where she leads with a hypnotic sway
Hips moving like a pendulum
And I’m her fool wanting to get my hands on
Leather-clad round peach-like curvatures.

She stops me with a fingertip
Pressed upon my silky lips,
Hints of honey, lavender, and vanilla wafting
Intoxicated I drunkenly stumble on my feet
As she grins, careful not to show those pearly white teeth.

She tells me to stand still
Moving like a siren in open water,
Circling, and kissing parts of my neck never touched
Electrical pulses fire sending shivers,
Cool hands fondling over marbled muscle
I’m feeling flushed and dizzied.

She feels the rush of red,
Flow through my rivers,
And filling her prize,
Fabric straining,
Painstaking,
I bite my knuckle,
Must regain composure,
Must regain…

I hear the belt unbuckle
I feel the tug of hands by my waistband
Her eyes light with awe,
As my fleshly serpent bounced and swayed
Free from it’s cotton laced cave,
I try to say something…
Going too fast perhaps,
Barely know her,
Not even her name.

But thoughts go blank
As her wet-tongued ballets
Twisting like licking a vanilla cone,
Until the warmth of her maw
Became a second home.

Lost in the ecstasy
My hands gripping her jet-black hair
Pulling while moving hips to dance with her skillful dancer,
Until the pain comes.

Clutched tight by the upper limbs of this spider,
She enticed me with silky romantic gestures,
****** pleasure,
But as the bite enters my swollen member
I feel faint, my heart slowing, wishing to surrender
As the world spins, asunder
Weaker, feeling each pint dither
As the last drops travel lonesome
Through a cave of dried and wilting river beds

I only wanted a chance encounter
She only wanted to be fed.
This piece is about vampirism, specifically about being seduced by someone in the clan Toreador (if you're not a vampire the masquerade fan here's a link: https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Toreador_(VTM)) it is meant to be darkly seductive and provocative. This piece should not be consumed by anyone under the age of 18.

if you feel this poem is too dark or too obscene please message me before flagging, and I will happily take it down or make it private. The last thing I want to do is cause harm.
Damocles Jun 6
Why is it so cold when your fingers touch?
Why can’t I feel you on my tongue?
When did the magic lose its spark in the way you used to hold me?
I would do anything for one more dance in the rain.

Open me like a letter,
Spill your fingers over the contents,
And let me say the words that stay hidden,
Locked behind the space of fear.
You won’t find them kissing upon your ears.
I need to know if you still see me.

You’re an apparition to me, translucent,
Passing through me, taking all my life force.
If only it could make your lies work.

It’s so cold when your fingers touch,
And as we kiss, I cannot feel you on my lips.
It’s like loving the air as toxic as it seems,
Choking me as I fall between the seams of reality
that there is no fae to guide you back home.
And I dance alone.
going through some physical health stuff right now, but still wanted to hop on and post my morning piece, I like my rituals and posting in the morning is just part of that.
Watching over me,
Feel my soul flee,
Wanna trap inside a dream,
Insecurity in reality,
Reality is grave of dreams,
People staring,
Feels scary,
And here is me,
Fed up of reality,
Oh I plea,please,
Let me sleep peacefully,
My world is just...my dream and me,
Please,set me free.
My bestie(kangaroo) gave me the topic insecurity to write..so here it is...how fictional is peace when reality gives insecurity.
Maria Etre Apr 8
And then
I said,
"All my poetry
is not
fictional"
putting all
these short
little bursts
of inspiration
in a different
perspective
Nana Apr 2
Three years ago from today,
I watched your neck snap and
swing loosely from your spine
from a tightly tied noose,
like the detached sole of
your brown church loafers.

During the autumn, the leaves
that ripped new orange contrasted
from the purple observable on your
face.

I watched your body dangle
from the banyan tree next
to the rickety tire swing in which
was once a steady structure, but was
now so close to dilapidation, just
like you and mama’s marriage.

And oh how you always hit her with
the tea kettle at eight in the morning
while it was still hot brewing of
mysterious faucet liquid because
your farm couldn't pay for plumbing,

And oh how while mama was away and
little Josh played cars with Susie
I watched your neck swing and twirl,
and finally breathed.

But after three years ago,
I watched mama walk down
a carmine carpet, her
white mermaid tail wedding
dress complimented the
beautiful chrysanthemums
among the ground.

I watched salty rivers dangle from
her eyes like you neck to your spine,
not from a beating of hot medal
at eight in the morning, but of
the tan man, Jose, who we all
loved dearly, not because of the
new plumbing and tire swing that he
provided, but because we saw mama
smile and dance and laugh for the first
time, since three years ago from today.
Damocles Apr 2
Your eyes spoke softly,
And I, abashed and shyly listened.

Suddenly, my lips part,
As I try to resist the pull of gravity.

“If I could walk with you,” I said,
“I’d like to steal some time.”

You replied with a pull of a tie,
“I’ll make you mine.”

Blonde locks adorned in lavender,
Blue hues piercing through the shade
Lashes batting like a strobe,
Captivating like a silent film.

This fedora dripped,
Melting from my careless hands.
I clenched my fists for a moment.

How simple words fall on deaf ears
When no one listens to the signs,
Just like we do.

Sing a song, bluebird.
I’m all ears to hear your lyrics hum.
Wash over me in technicolor.
I’ve dreamt of nothing better.

This scene is so noir,
But I see the light.
Sun hues, greener grass,
and thoughts of you.

Is this real or am I dreaming again?
Tried to capture the essence of a noir romance
Archer Feb 15
Like how you run your fingers through my hair and stare at me with that smile of yours
when you think I’m not looking,
like how you light up whenever you see me
and you always rush to try to find me
and get up in my space?
Like how you spend time with me,
how you stay over at my house and I stay at yours?
Like how you get worked up over video games, and how sometimes
I can’t tell if you have a crush on me or are just an a##hole.
Now I know,
you’re just
an
a##hole.
duck Aug 2024
have always wanted to escape reality-
from disney princess movies as a kid
to being a pre teen feeling real ******
reading all those fantasy books
then discovered romance and ****
as a weird teenager that barely lives
and keeps wanting to cut
myself but I know nobody gives
a single **** about my dreams
because I've always wanted to just fly
or shoot beams
or getting really really high
with dopamine in my veins
because if I met my fated partner in a whole another world
I'll be content for no reason
at all <3
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