In her presence I stand, submissive and weak;
She’s a goddess of power, so strong and unique!
She knows what she wants and takes what she needs,
Leaving me breathless with shaking knees.

She gazes at me right through the soul
And I cannot resist her gentle control!
My adorable lover has dominance at its peak;
After our ******* she gives me a kiss on the cheek…

While her lipstick shines on my body so bright,
I’m lying naked in bed and she drives me wild!
In her arms I feel obedient and secure
And we know our love is tender and pure!

She’s the sexiest woman I have ever seen!
She looks like a m.i.l.f. but is only nineteen…

When did my mouth become so quiet
When did my mind start racing
When did my eyes stop wandering?

When did my legs become so stiff
When did my soul start dimming
When did my heart stop skipping a beat?

When did I become so mindless
When did I start not to care
When did I stop believing?

passive

life feeds me medicine
suggests merit
and provides mirth, malady and misery
i graze accordingly
a simpering recruit to habit
life is precious pump and mental squeeze
precarious unravels of daring
a mad staring competition
at some hypnotic curl
and i am foetal at rest


aggressive

(spicy obnoxious moody life-
          -balled up around lunatic pull-
     -an overindulged sick stomach-
-a rag birth gift held onto-
    -a clutch of halted development)
Oh, Life ! such a brat
***** you & your horror of sacrifices
in the name of exploration
it's all just *****
and fluorescent
and shy of goal

free course
change your life
look prettier
make everyone like you
Start saying YES
YES I AGREE
it's really that simple
just follow this ONE STEP
let me hear you say it
YES I AGREE
be careful bossy
don't tell them what you really think
yes thats right
you agree with me
end of course

Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
A man locks eyes with an artificial light
that shows a world clouded in darkness. Gleaming with empty words and false promises, the light is shut.
“Not now,” he says, as he drifts of into the night.

Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
The man springs from his bed, chasing the light.
Yet his calloused hands go stiff—
he backs away with a shake of the head.
“I’m not ready,” he says, as he eyeballs a dusky mirror reflecting on days that have long gone.

Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
This time, he merely acknowledged the light—
the light that enamored him once, maybe twice.
Yet this time, he simply glanced
as it died in the twilight.
“Why bother?” he says, as he dreams of days that once were.

Take my pride
(there was never much
anyway) take my sorrow take my
anger frustration can’t-do attitude

and I’ll be good
again, well-meaning and
innocent in a
bland
sort of way