you rose up from the murky depths
breaking the surface of stilled waters
disturbing tranquil oceans and calm seas

at first, a gentle ripple-

rolling roiling reeling
collecting bones of sunken ships
pulling pieces of dredged up memories
along your wake of destruction

you turn yourself inside out
over
          and over
                          and over

into crested waves
crashing into my sandy banks

darling,
wash away all my self control
and resistance built up over pent
disappointments and picketed frustrations

the past engulfs me;
heat of your skin pressed against mine
lips pursed in anticipation
of the last time you said you loved me

love,
flood my lungs
for i think i'm running out of air
to breathe into this mirage.

Love and lust;
tell me what's the difference, when both
things give me such a rush,
Swore we wouldn't be any of these things;
but aren't we all so quick to cuss?

I talk too much;
can't bite my tongue on words, unless
if I'm not able to pay for our lunch.
I once took out a girl; hoping for a chance
to cuff. Hoping not to get declined on both
my intentions, and brand new swipe card's bluff.

Being in love sometimes *****;
when you're getting blasted for not checking up.
Meeting up; 'I'm a little busy today, but I swear
by tomorrow we'll do some catching up.'
But we're back to the part of going to cuss;
and I've had so many catches, but I'm the one
still catching up.

Let me butter you up;
have you out to spread with open legs,
As I'm tempting myself so close to lust.
Here comes the rush, as the sweetest kisses brim;
overflowing out of my cup.

Our minds are about to erupt;
we both know what's coming up, and what's up.
Seems so hard to stop; but I'm listening to my
spirit, causing things to interrupt.

Looking cute in my eyes of a pup;
every angle looking so plump, before
my head is rushing to pump. Just to dump
my confidence to peers that I'm not a chump.
That I know how exactly to cuff.

But I told myself to stop...

I've been so close in this game between
love & lust;
The hungrier flesh; skins wanting what
they want. But as for me; I'm not letting them have
their luck.

I'm not letting up.

I’ve taken the monster out of the cage today.

I suppose it was bound to happen at some point.

This is what happens when you tempt a beast in hiding.

Like my father’s sobriety, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

there’s this thirst inside of me,

a monster who enrages my insides and tears me apart
once you feed the monster, there’s no stopping me.

I binge.

And after comes the guilt and the shame and there’s no self-control.

the monster inside me was right, so I got up, and flushed almost everything inside me down the rabbit hole.

I knew I shouldn't have done that, but it was better to get rid of the guilt physically than let it rot inside my body more than it already was.

I could write erotica
Words flushed with heat
And lust
A bare trace of plot
Sliding through the lines
like soft skin on silk sheets.

I could paint pictures
with sultry poses,
long limbs entwined in a battle of flesh,
pictures to bring a tingle,
a shiver dancing across your skin.

I could whisper salacious stories
with my lips just above your ear,
hot breath and a teasing lilt,
testing the boundaries of self-control.

I could pass along this poem,
lay forth my cards,
exposed provocatively on the table,
making my intentions known.