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Sheila J Sadr May 2014
Once you drove up in your
1977 Mercedes,
I could feel the hurried pulsation of a weary heart
over the clattered groan of your engine.
Clambering into my seat, I folded in on myself,
too timid to fold into you instead.

Creamed leather seats on a rusted turquoise shell 
I look to the back, expecting some residue
of the last lipstick crush that you set fire to.
Instead, I found $1 books from the library
and your worn regalia that I would’ve stolen
and kept as filthy souvenirs.
A deep inhale of your burnout sheesha
that bobby pinned to tired marrow in my bones -

I would’ve taken you right then and there.

Instead, we played coy with the thin fabric of a relit friendship
and talked poetry and music over a ceramic bowl
of coconut chicken curry.

But all I romanced was a clustered cocktail
of my favorite things:

The drag of my curious fingertips
underneath your prickled jaw.
This fever building as I curl into your arms
and the corrupted graze of your hungry lips
in the groove of my neck.

Temptation at its finest.
Such promise between two starved pilgrims
But the descent down to the deep V between hips
is a sweet flame that
can easily burn you and leave pin pricked stains.
So its a good thing that I let you go.


October 17, 2013 4:38 PM
Cake, the meat of culinary delights;
Icing, the sauce.

Cake, the main entree, the special of the night;
Icing, the decorative garnish.

Without Cake, Icing has no purpose
A clump, a blob, of meaningless goop.

1 spoonful of Icing alone and you're done.
Spread out amongst the firm surface of Cake though,
Icing becomes much more interesting, and much more fun.

I am the Cake.
You are the Icing.
Without me, the base, the entree, the meat
You, the sauce, the garnish and blob, don't matter

You can be the Icing to your own Cake or to another
But without me, you'll do nothing but rot teeth and smother

So, to enjoy you, Icing, to the absolute fullest
I must, first, combine the ingredients, stir and bake
Because it is vital, if one is to appreciate your sweet taste,
To properly prepare my foundation, the meat, your Cake.

- BPW
Mr X May 2014
You call me amidst all the smoke.
You call me amidst all the dieing hope.
You call me when I become weak enough to hide my tears.
You call me when there is nothing left on earth to fear.
Everytime you call me I die a new death.
Everytime you do not call me I live like death itself.
When my loved ones stop me from listening your call,
I throw them away, push them aside but with tears in my eyes.
I know you are my death.
I know you are my fall.
I know you're not a friend,
Just a devil's call.
But how can I stop myself from comming to you.
You help me burn all those scars and unfulfilled desires.
You are the solution to all my regrets.
You are my companion during my messed up state.
So lets just burn together behind your smoke.
Lets die together behind your smoke.
Michael Amery Apr 2014
Death is boring.
Dark, cowled and skeletal,
Exuding a mysteriousness that she fails to fulfill.
Her goals are one dimensional
Though myriad in her often creative
Approach.
Creative after an eternity of
Collection.

God is almighty.
What can you give the man who has everything?
Your faith?
Omnipotence...
Safe bets are seldom captivating.
Unless you’re a criminal stacking the odds
While your fellow man takes the dive
For your gain,
Your glory.

Buddha is just a man.
Enlightened.
He accepted Death’s embrace,
And God’s divinity
Thrusting aside the Devil’s whispered
Temptations.
Yet
Buddha was just a man.

The Devil whispers the sweetest dreams
His voice is a silk melody
Dancing along our nerves
Touching our forbidden parts
“Take her, she wants your ****”
Plunge into her moist depths
Sheath your spear,
Spill your seed,
****** hard
Then soft
Find release in her moans
Peace and heaven in her trembling touch.

Her moist lips part
But it is not your name she sounds
Her voice once radiant with lust
With desire
Now drives a shard of hate within, through your still rapidly beating heart.
Cupid speaks another name

Once hard now limp
Pull back, pull out your flimsy ****
Look down into the empty depths of her eyes
See in them another man
Her hunger is sated
Bruised lips mouth the apology your ears refuse to hear
Yet your heart laid bare just moments before
Is pierced anew.
Laugh it off but
The Devil has his hooks in you

Another carcass for the heap
She is the hook, you are the meat
Butchered
The lost leading the sheep to slaughter
Do not fret, you are not finished
Soon you will rise a phoenix from her cooling embers
Golden and resolute
Stronger for having licked her poison
Yet you will know that you are now
A stranger to yourself
You are the hook
Find him some meat
The Devil hunts again.
Ren O May 2014
The poison I’ve consumed is enough to **** a lion
Or love
At least I hope so

Because you’ve spent my energies
******* them dry so you have a place to store your bittersweet temptation
And I know I’ve helped clean them out
But that’s because I care more than I want to
More than is healthy for one person in a two person relationship

I can’t take care of you if I can’t take care of me
So it’s time for me to shed the skin that you’re so familiar with
Time to grow new hair that you haven’t touched
Time to grow a new heart to replace the one that I ripped out of my very own chest to give to you
You didn’t want it ‘til I stopped offering it
So why should I offer you anything more?

It’s taken a long time for me to get to this place
A place where I can stand alone and be content with myself
Because within this mound I stand on of skin and bones
Is a soul that needs to be touched and loved
I am more than a body, let alone a body for your human feasting
I am a shining, beacon of hope

I am loved by many
And it’s only now I realize I don’t need you

Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it any less difficult
For my sad, human body
Zoe Sue May 2014
My prince charming
Wears armor of glass
Yielding a sword to combat conscious thought
My prince charming
Carries me
Far from here
Far from danger
With each swig
This sweet poison
This lovely potion
Rescues
A damsel in distress
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