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maddie Mar 25
Your words are like honey
So quick
So smooth
They slip off your tongue
And leave me toute rouge
he sang
th world thought that
but he pained

he danced
the world loved that
but danced from evert

his blood covered his
they thought that he put a rouge
he was like a bird

singing from pain
singing from evert

save the rest
or the world may be ******
the justice needs to make the same look
Em MacKenzie Feb 2019
In terms of matters of the heart
there’s only one truth that’s gotten me by:
That something this strong and unique,
could never be anything less than mutual.
The world is cruel, but it’s not evil. just to love and be loved in returned.
noir Dec 2018
Fresh blood
Use it as paint
Paint the town
Our love isn’t defined by time
But by a delicious shade of red
Love it
Love me
Bleed for me
Give me your everything
part two of three in the series i am still yet to name
Friar was
free with
a thong
of girls
here to
ding then
wandered to
a tong
then wired
their president
there asleep
but soon
got home
to marry
who she
let resign
again tonight
a friar's fridat night
Pauper of Prose Jul 2018
Pleasures spiral and sprawl outward
Escaping the small chamber your parents regulated it to
Devouring dollops of your time
Until you become sick and restless
Fevers, blankets, and soup for recovery
Seeking madness once you’re rested and wrestling with boredom
This ruinous routine is never naturally rundown
Only perishing once true passion is found
nikolas Sep 2015
Paris, France
October 12, 1889

It's been nearly a week now since the Le Premier Palais des Femmes has opened. I gander about, and see all the free faces. Misters in their best outfits slobbed themselves over the glories of an actual woman that was not their wife. They saw beauty and an opportunity for a feeling of strength and masculine power. Different attire worn by the women reveled much skin. The men gathered two or three mistresses and a bucket of *** and went off to their homes. I was disgusted and delighted to be here. I recently resigned the Misses just to do this tonight. It's 21:47. I look around for faces that I would be delighted in claiming my own for a night and two. Nothing caught my eye. I started to gather my stuff and leave, but suddenly a face I hadn't seen appeared in front of me. Her breath smelt of mint leaves and joy. She spoke to me and asked me for the night. Asked me! Such a remark from a woman of that low should earn a punishment, but she seemed like she was innocent. As rude as it was, I took her offer since I had no other plans for that night. She took me back to her home where she had set up a fire and food. It was as if she had planned it for me. It was so beautifully laid out. I looked around her home, it was astonishing. She then leaded me to her bedroom, where she left rose pedals on the floor and one candle lit. She grabbed me. That's when I met my Mistress from the Moulin Rouge.
Sana Jan 2015
Color of fire
Color of my soul
Color of this book
Color of my feelings
Color of blood
Color of my thoughts
Color of passion
Are my ideas of you
I wish I wasn't so filled with
But I'm resltess
And deep inside
I've got storms raging
After all
Even if as white
I am seen
And of green
I'm surrounded
Even if blue
is what I often feel
And of purple
my dreams are made
In the end
Every little corner of my life
Is tainted
With the color of
I am not really happy with how this turned out to be, but this is one of my few attempts at actually trying to write. I don't like how I **** at expressing myself and how my favorite pieces are too abstract for me to explain because I wrote without really thinking. So now, I'm trying to change that. Obviously, I'm still an amateur and I need to practice this more often.
Gladys P Sep 2014
Autumn adorns the universe,
Into a transitional seasonal display,
Preparing for a whimsical change,
Upon evergreen trees, in rouge and ember shades.

Lavishly, shedding slowly,
Into a fusion of tones, leaving embellishing grounds,
Bearing naked branches,
As they casually toss down.

Stroking their leaves, and sending colorful hues,
Like a genuine piece of tapestry,
Beautifully interlacing,
And harvesting, 'neath the suns abundance of energy.

— The End —