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Cian Kennedy Sep 2017
A night girl takes the blame

Plaster after plaster simply to pave

A way for a better life.

“Where is her shame?”



Asks the dolled up go-go wife

Leading her husband by his tie

Like a collar around his neck. Sick.

As she parades, reckless to strife.



And the mistress?

The same black tint that he kisses

at home, here pours and pours

On every visit.



A discarded mascara bottle,

discarded amore.
ciankennedy.me
kierra Jul 2017
earthen and underexposed, I've never
needed someone as ravenously as I do you --
my environment secondary and the correlating perception laced with my association of you

I plead the fifth -- with my being aching to share
my existence with you, only you

your energies balance me and, magnetic, we resonate off one another

harmonious and guilty -- for I've brushed my lips along yours in sin,

and she's done the same in vow.
Nicole Bataclan Mar 2017
Half a life
Half a love
Undivided submission;

Half-hearted
I am utterly devoted
To lesser moments.

Between the sheets
The mind drifts
In search of atonement;

Part-time wrong
Entirely yours
An inevitable outcome.

It is living half a life
Accepting half love
Full-time;

My light,
Take me out of the dark

The courage within to say goodbye.
The Dybbuk Mar 2017
There lived a man,
with wife and child,
Who toiled the hours away.
He was never home,
So his son was wild,
And the man's hairs turned to gray.
The man, he prayed,
for something new,
To break his boring days.
The next day, on the shore,
On the edge of a cliff,
Was a girl with her hair ablaze.
The lady turned with a shake of her hips,
And the man did cry of lust.
For he knew that his wife,
His black haired jewel,
had half the face and half the bust.
But the ******* the shore,
With the bleeding hair,
had a trick for the man she'd ensnared.
She told the man her dastardly plan,
For she knew she could never be shared.
The man went home, and he ******* his bride,
Went away to find his blade.
Her hair of black did turn to white,
for she had never been so afraid.
When the man returned,
He cut her throat and she fell down from the bed.
Her blood did pool around her,
Till her hair was dripping red.
So the man returned to his mistress,
Who was waiting beneath the palm tree,
His mistress wore his spouse's face,
She killed him and ran into the sea.
It’s a very funny scene, watching them together,
Knowing he’s mine.
Remembering how his arms felt around me last night;
Watching her feed the baby she made for him
And wondering if one is now growing inside me.
     ^^^^^
The years- ago adventures of my best friend
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