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NaNi Jan 23
Egypt,
One day you're going to grow up and I’m going to tell you the most important love that exists in my life and it begins with you

I always knew I wanted you
But I didn’t know how much until I had you
I wasn’t planning for you but I wasn’t doing anything to prevent the chance of you
It was almost like my heart knew I needed something , a blessing that would make me cry out to God
A blessing that The world may have thought i wasn’t ready for
Even with fear in my heart knowing I could fail
I wasn’t afraid of this blessing
After hearing your heartbeat, over and over
I knew who you were
You were mine and I was finally going to have you
Even if I had to do it over again i would still choose you
Someone i never knew i needed and someone I will infinitely love & protect

All ways, always
You
Styles Jan 23
Let my fingers trace her skin,
Carving paths only we’ve been in.
Lose yourself as we collide,
To find each other deep inside.

My tongue a poet, her body the page,
Writing verses of passion, igniting a stage.
Kissing her hard, left bruises remain,
Her pleasures ache within pain.

Taste her need as she she take mine too,
In a desperate dance, raw and true.
Not softly, not shyly, but we play it safe,
Marking her boldly with our embrace.

Take me like freedom’s last fleeting call,
Break me apart, but rebuild it all.
I don’t want careful—I crave divine,
An unforgettable chaos where our souls align.
Styles Jan 23
Tied to a chair, blindfold in place,
Every sense alive, my heart starts to race.
The silence screams, the tension grows,
What comes next? Nobody knows.

A touch so soft, it teases my toes,
A delicate stroke where sensation flows.
Up the arch, it glides so slow,
A trail of fire with nowhere to go.

I bite my lip, the urge to fight,
But the teasing touch feels so right.
Relentless, it dances, igniting desire,
A spark that sets my soul on fire.

In the unknown, where senses collide,
Anticipation and thrill can’t be denied.
For in the darkness, where mystery reigns,
Pleasure and growth walk hand in hand with pain.
Rachel Rae Jan 22
Love myself?
I loved myself
To the point I overflowed
For the Earth, family, friends
My love was warm and abundant
My sadness was that
no one would ever know it

I was gazing in windows
Leaning over shoulders
Edges of worlds, social circles
I never found them.
I defined them.
Where the sidewalk met
The playground grass
The little girl was watching, left

Perhaps the flowers below my bedroom window
Watered on the emotions I bled
Will last longer than I did
May they find hands to hold onto
As I was never able to
akiko Jan 22
you pick up the pen and paper you gently write 'dear mother dear father'
on the paper telling them why. why you had to leave why you couldn't do it you pick up the bottle you think 'just one more letter' you pick back up the pan and paper writing 'dear best friend' telling her/him how sorry you are words spill out on the paper you write so many letters you stare at them thinking of how many people will miss you how many people will cry that night you ripped up the papers and threw them away if you have letters you have reasons.
you see though I only would write 5 letters. I dont think they will cry.
.
Norbert Tasev Jan 22
How many more wasted, pitiful, nightmare-filled, futile vigils are needed for a moment that was said to be eternal, to let not only the lack that is said to be permanent, but also the emptiness to leak out once and for all?! Despite the deliberately diverted parts, it seems as if the pitifully structured scenario could have always remained the same.

Sooner or later, someone will really get to know someone, and what's more, on an instinctive, visceral level, they will unexpectedly throw them away, saying; he delved too much into the other's more personal, more modest, lyrical self, which is like a thick, unbreakable walnut gut, and it's a tough job to even break it open, especially when someone tries to protect and protect his soul with doubled spiral walls.

Then comes another love that flirts with the Universe, but is still trite, which may seem to totally replace, change, and convert the person in question, until finally, one fine day, it ends in a painful breakup simply because the secret gigantic weight, the outbursts of honest, lying emotions are no longer they can be enough to make everything right, or just make up for it.

Questions, new illusions, and insecurities surround the individual day by day, and when the registrar's finale comes, instead of the obligatory yeses, nos are heard, because material well-being is still worth more than a paltry, life-smelling petty emotion. But the long-awaited solid and eternal snail-house happiness just can't come, since both parties made a petty, calculated deal in their own way, so they bargained at the same time. It's a shame to put the apparent oiliness in yet another set of question marks.

The current social conventions, which can be chosen on purpose, are still deliberately imposed on each individual and try to regulate the life of the traditional average, while, condensed into a single minute, the given life will soon fly away, and there will not be a single witness left who knows who was, or could have been, the another?!
Styles Jan 21
Let my words trace your silhouette,
a phantom’s caress, lingering yet.
Each syllable a brush of desire,
kindling sparks, igniting fire.

Lines flow like molten gold,
writing secrets your skin won’t withhold.
Every curve, every plane,
etched in whispers that call your name.

They cascade down, slow and sure,
filling spaces you long to endure.
A tempest builds, fierce and untamed,
branding softly, your soul renamed.

Breathless heat, a searing tide,
our untold story where passions collide.
My words, a map, a lover’s art,
binding you fast, heart to heart.
Sara Barrett Jan 21
We are galaxies wrapped in human skin,  

Infinite and diverse

Short, tall, curved, angular,  

Painted in every shade beneath the sun.  

We carry stories like hidden constellations,  

Symphonies unheard by casual ears.  

Mothers, creators, dreamers, doers

More than the roles they give us.  

Some wear scrubs that heal,  

Some don suits that lead,  

Some wrap aprons around quiet dreams   

But always, there is more beneath the surface.  

We are silent strategists,  

Mapping emotions with a glance,  

Untangling life’s knots with quiet magic.  

We repair not only what has been broken.

We restore what is unseen.  

We write novels at midnight,  

Teach yoga or calculus with equal grace.  

We climb walls others fear facing,  

And drive highways under moonlit skies.  

They see simplicity where we hold storms,  

Calm exteriors hiding infinite layers.  

Mother. Worker. Wife.  

Labels are too small for the worlds we contain.  

Stop. Look closer. Listen deeply.  

We are not just women

We are universes waiting to be discovered,  

Galaxies hidden in plain sight,  

Architects of futures yet unwritten.
This poem explores the hidden depths of women’s lives—their untold stories, unseen challenges, and unrecognized strengths. It reflects on how women are often defined by surface-level roles—mother, professional, wife—that fail to capture the vastness of who they truly are. Beneath their calm exteriors lie galaxies of talents, passions, and resilience, quietly shaping the world in ways that often go unnoticed. This piece is a call to look beyond appearances, to listen deeply, and to acknowledge the infinite complexity and quiet power that women carry within them.
Àŧùl Jan 21
Her eyes are poetry, and
Each blink of her eyes is a poem.
Her voice is poetry, and
Each of her words is a poem.
Her thinking is poetry, and
Each of her thoughts is a poem.

My love for her is poetry, and
Each of my expressions for her is a poem.
My care for her is poetry, and
Each of my suggestions for her is a poem.
My desire for her is poetry, and
Each expression of my romance for her is a poem.

Our mutual attraction is poetry, and
Each of our confessions to one another is a poem.
Our eternal relationship is poetry, and
Each of our manifestations for one another is a poem.
Our way of talking to each other is poetry, and
Each of our conversations with one another is a poem.
A Reformatted Repost

My HP Poem #2042
©Atul Kaushal
Kai Jan 21
No, stop
Leave me alone
Feeling your hands roam
Hoping they'd get off, so I'd moan
Back arching
Spine breaking
Hands *******
There's no hope for speaking up
I've lost my voice
But God… I must feel so moist
Fingers groping my ******* and twisting
Sweaty palms spreading my thighs
I can see the pleasure in your eyes
Taking in the sight
With me beneath the moonlight
Recording me
Stop it
I don't want to be part of your sick fantasy

The eyes are admiring my body, not my face
They are just going to get a taste
Of my delicious cake
With the frosting they'll make
On top
Then leave me here on the cold, hard concrete for me to rot
Not once untying me
Just to let me be
No
They just leave me there with my disheveled hair

Secret sessions
Just you and me with your confession
That you've reached obsession
Your skilled fingers delicately unbuttoning my shirt and working their way down to my bottom
Belts getting torn off
Clothes getting torn off of bodies
Replacing the bites on my already painted canvas with your aggressive ones
All of it is never changing
Forever engaging
With these forbidden activities
It's over and over again
Just for nothing to change
They won't let me take my distance and arrange

I know it won't end
I'll end up continuing it but with my friends
Just for the sake of the familiar feeling that comes back
Chat.... I don't know what this was ?? leave me alone since I worked this up within a few minutes ? (Wrote this because someone thought that I had *** and I'm kinda just mocking it 😁👍 but also, it's kinda how I feel sometimes)
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