Do you remember me?
Do you remember the way you pulled at my hair
The way you bit on my shoulder
Legs
Thighs
Neck
The way you hit my cheek
And left marks of yourself all over me
The way you flung money on my face
The way you kept ******* me
Even though I was asking, begging
PLEADING
For you to stop
The way you screamed,
"Work harder you *****!
I didn’t waste money for you to stop"
And the bruises you left
When I passed out?
I
Am the girl
From the Red Room of The ***** House.
I
Am the ****
Who is ***** everyday
But society says,
"NO. It's all for the easy money"
I
Am the gold-digger
Crying for people to stop.
I
Am the story
Of eighty million **** toys
Behind the Curtains less Doors of Pleasure for Men.
No.
We aren’t **** stars.
We don't become famous for filming obscene videos.
We are just some toys
That men borrow
Like a rental car.
We are the colors
The society talks about in hushed voices
In the corner of a deserted street.
We are the discarded clothes
You never wore
Because they weren’t good enough.
We are the succubuses
Of every man's dream.
We are Pleasure
And
Lust
And
Money
And
Sin.
But,
We die a bit everyday.
We have felt, seen and heard pain
MORE than any one of you here.
We are WOMEN.
But no one holds a candle lit march for us
When one of us is *****.
Because
"It's all for the easy money"
Isn’t it?
We are the Strippers, the Prostitutes, the *****
We
Are the nightmares you never wish to have
We
ARE THE UNSHED TEARS OF A FORGOTTEN PAST.
do you remember me now?

I am a succubus: my caress turns you to putty in my hands.
My allure is effortless: your limbs are mine to do with as I desire.


You cannot resist my allure just like a fish to the bait

I don't feel the want, to talk too much
her touch and eyes say more
every stroke, tender kiss
reaches, to my core

A subtle caress of motion
an embrace of words, pure art
statuary built from scratch
moving in my mind, and heart

So don't stop, or pause
on the path, of silent need
hand in hand, we'll wander on
and on each other, feed

She took advantage of his disgruntlement, silence,
His shut-eye, and him giving in to laziness.
She became a fabled, stereotypical succubus
Of lore by giving in to her own selfishness.

~ A.M, F.H.

I don't have very long,
Will you tell me that you need me?
There's something wrong,
I know you see right through me.

I try my best,
But those intentions were lost.
A burning flame,
On a candle wick that's been gone.

It's becoming clear,
That my simple words are useless.
If I just disappeared,
Would you say it's me that you miss?

Please lie to me,
Just to try and save face.
I know you're already gone.
I know that I was too late.

I'll soon be gone,
But you won't be sorry.
My back holds your knife,
In my heart it's burried.

I'll take a drink,
In the morning I'll regret it.
The words I spill,
"I think it's time to forfeit."

I'll haunt your dreams,
But not as a ghost or a spirit.
You'll see my grave,
And you'll know that I meant it.

I'll see you around,
In your hometown in hell.
I'll be burning alive,
All because in love I fell.