Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lady Bird Feb 2015
This is a poem I must write,
and hopefully not recite
I feel like an old, twisted,
used dish towel thrown across a kitchen sink
my insides opened wide, and the color of pink
pushed aside like nothing at all
just hanging there waiting to fall
I can’t even comprehended
what my heart must feel
this feeling inside can’t be real
there is just no answer; but when will it end?
I have written this a long time ago...My first time was not as magical as I thought it should have been..
Poetic T Dec 2014
Each word is a
******
On
White,
Only when the
Ink dries have the
Words
Penetrated
Deep,
& innocence is lost with
Each drip of **ink.
NeroameeAlucard Nov 2014
I Can barely put up with this ****** frustration
that can't be cured any longer, with furious *******
it's like every one but me across this great nation
has known the flesh of another, it's like mental castration
to not know the taste of a woman's flesh
To caress her body while fondling her ample *******
To drunkenly sup from her womanly cup
Am I going to die alone? is that my plan from above?

Now I know that my body is supposed to be sacred
But I can just barely, just barely take it
That primal instinct, that feeling deep in my bones
to finally live out the ****** desires of my own
The stigma that's with a guy who's the age of 18
"Ohh you're still a ******? get out there and drink lean!"
It Really *****.
Jellyfish Nov 2014
Why does everyone want to lose it?
Isn't it supposed to be somewhat sacred?
I've always thought so.
It's too bad that mine was stolen from me.
statictitanic Nov 2014
I want you
to rip every vein from my skin
pull them out like worms from the ground
touch my blood
and **** in the pure guilt
I have drowned myself in
pull my teeth out
and drag them along my naked body
carve shapes into this dead, papery flesh
don't forget the ruby red lipstick
cake it onto my betraying, seductive lips
let your arms travel everywhere it pleases
yank my hair
grab the strands and brush them over my face
my finger nails, paint them white like purity
wrapped in the ****** Mary
Last, don't forget my
heart
Rip it from the connecting arteries
and let me feel the sting
and watch your hands too, tinted in my beautiful red

I am your canvas
I am your doll
I am your **** that
Nobody will ever know
Because under all this...
I'm dead.
Insane Reverie Nov 2014
If poems were ***
then,I wouldn't be a ******
i would caress the letters
fix a foreplay with title
i would literally **** the words
to give birth to soulful sentences
if poems were ***
I wouldn't be ******,still.
Its a bit different idea to show my love for poems. If there wasn't poem then where would my feelings disappear,I wonder !
Hannah Nov 2014
her naked body
splayed across her bed
arms wrapped against his lean muscular body
breathing in sync
exhale, inhale
body against body
the glass wall now broken
shattering barriers between them
collecting their uncertain love
fusing them together as one
a love unbroken;
solidified,
now has formed
every move he makes
like nothing she's ever experienced
left afterwards to rest
against his body
head against his heart
thumping, fast
then slowing down
like a butterfly wing's flutter
when sleep enfolds him in its arms
and comforts him, simultaneously as she,
oh how that night felt
with him
and oh how she misses
his once undying love,
because that night
and that burning love
has now turned to embers
and blown away with the gusts of wind,
never to be seen again
yearning to be with him
she knew that night meant forever
a bond to never be broken
but he didn't seem to realize this
and broke everything they ever had
like a crack in a line
a hole in a heart
and now scattered embers
blow across the earth
never to be ignited again
September
Hannah Nov 2014
She lay there beside him
cradled in his arms
warmth radiating from him
seeping into her veins
flowing through her blood
creating a blissful peace
an ecstasy like induced state
because he was her drug
blurring the hard edges into soft lines
mixing her dreams with reality
a sleepwalking state of pure rapture
and so she thought
that getting high off of his love
was something she will never
regret.
will you ever come back?
Next page