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Shannon Jul 9
Run through expensive hotels
Just to come home, play Mario Kart in our underwear
A high-stake love, we burn like fire and cry like monsoons
Holiday flashes become traditions,
Movements of our hands and our arms keep the peace
The making of our love sneaky and frequent.

Ask you to run away with me into the moonlight
To never be seen again
Messy wild and barely free
Eighteen with too many cares and too many scars to hold alone
So let's hold them together
You can't heal my wounds
But you help relieve the pain

Four hands and two hearts ache for one another
Let's build a fort under your desk
Stay there till the morning light.
Movies I can't help to sleep through
Making out through every *** scene
l'll spoon you, kiss your bare back
Hold you tighter than

Drive until there's no more road,
Hands on knees light in the rearview mirror
driving in lingerie just for the ******* risk

Showers shared soothe the soul so hold me close and dear
Wash my hair and I'll wash yours.
The spot in my back that only you can reach.
Feel your heart beat through your chest
Your wet hair slicked back
Piercing blue eyes that melt me like wax and a flame
you are my flame.

We're messy and wild and inconsistent and angry and loving and full of so much.
Keep me safe and ill keep you wild
Until you return, my dear.
The world plants a desire,
and tells me I must douse its fire.
But this morning I toasted some bread
and read a Japanese poem about geese,
and I realised that all the time I lease
to smartphones and buying things
could be simply spent with a coffee, reading
a text that makes my bleeding heart sing.
Alex Mar 2018
I am trying to move on
I put myself out there
I even bought lingerie,
not for you, never for you
for myself, to wear around the house
and remind my self
I am a goddess,
one that you will never see again
Because I am too **** beautiful to let this heartbreak take over
I am too **** beautiful for you
I am trying to move on
I am moving on
Ek Feb 2018
It was 8:45 after my bathe
I dried my *** and put my favorite moisturizer
Looking at my reflection I’m feeling ****
So I put red lipstick on and decided to wear my flesh color see-through lingerie

I went to distract my husband playing virtual game, PUBG specifically
He drew attention to me — his hand is caressing my face, you’re gorgeous he said
He then pressed his lips against mine and started talking...
Talking back to his playmates about what strategy are they going to use
So I went to bed to write this lol
It’s the funny reality of being married. It was his last game for the night so I decided to eat chocolate while waiting. Haha just love!
Sara Kellie Dec 2017
My name is Sara, a transgender chick
Wanted a *****, was given a ****
I hide it in knickers of satin and lace
before sitting down to make-up my face,
Next the prosthetics, I'm using two bits.
Stuck to my chest, they'll do as my ****
Now for my legs I'll put on false tan,
I wouldn't do this if I were a man
Alternative nights, a t-girl delights
to sit on her bed and pull on new tights.
I'll put on a dress, a cute one no less.
Then for my shoes, high heels I choose
A sandal style shoe as every girl knows
not only looks cute, they'll show painted toes
A bit of eyeliner, eyebrow definer,
lipstick and blush, I'm now looking lush.
I stand in the mirror all ready to go,
there's only one question I just have to know.
"Does my *** look big in this?"

Poetry by Kaydee.
I wrote this poem in 2010 shortly after introducing myself as Sara to the world.
ally maková Nov 2017
I lost a sense of myself
in the silk of sadness,
sprawled on my bed
of lilies and night-long moans
in lingerie and stockings.

Come look for me.

This darkening heart of mine
desires one dulcet dream only—
to see you dauntless,
throwing your head back,
desperate and divine;

Ah, please
Come look for me.

And at last when you do,
Ah, my lying love,
like a longing prey for you
I will lament not
the loss of myself,
for I know well
with your lace-like touch
you will lift me
from this silk of sadness
and not only will I become
your little poet, no—
I will be ultimately *pleased.
I haven't written anything in forever, which made me lose the poetess in me & that is what this poem is about. enjoy x
her kind of naughty
is sipping hot chocolate in dark lingerie
at midnight.
Äŧül Feb 2016
So sensuous is this piece of clothing,
Barely covering her bare essentials.
If she lets it fall to the ground,
Visible are her melons so round.
And what to say of her crevices,
Up & down both are so smooth,
Juice-filled they are the milk booth.
I have marked it as explicit.
If you don't desire to read such pieces, kindly tick the 'Hide explicit poems' option in your account settings instead of telling me to not write such poems.

Lingerie is pronounced somewhat as \laundjzerie/.

My HP Poem #1023
©Atul Kaushal
Tawanda Mulalu Aug 2015
Physicists are perverts. They keep
trying to peek under Mother
Nature's dressing gown- asking
Her questions like "why
do electrons behave as both
particles and waves?"
when what they really want
to know is

if Mother Nature's lingerie
is red or black, and which
she prefers to wear
on Fridays.
Science is fun!
LoveLy Jul 2015
Is it sad that I feel the most beautiful when I'm standing in front of my mirror half naked? When I feel the most ****.
I've never had the room to cry about a bad weight complex.
I've always been beautifully thin and  no angle not pleasing to look at...or so I've been told....

Told by the same male who broke down my walls and worked his hardest to get in...
only to see the beautiful body under this princess' gown.
The male who broke my walls and when left broke my heart leaving this beautiful body

I look in the mirror in my new lingerie feeling beautiful...feeling fake, because every time I see myself like this reminds me of how I looked just like this. Just as pretty, just as **** in my underclothes as I did then.  And it feels so wrong and so right that I stopped looking.
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