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Mark Toney Dec 2019
Woman
Whoa, man!
7/14/2018 - Poetry form: Footle - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Connor May 2019
He knows how to tear me apart,
His demanding tone, his eyes of fire,
His skilled fingers, his vicious mouth.

All are instruments of delectable
Torture, made to force me into
Submission, to cater to his every whim.

I have gotten onto my back, as per his request;
The sound of his controlled breathing, and soft
Commands is arousing.

So badly is my desire to submit,
Yet I find myself wanting to
Be naughty. So I do.

My desperation for more of
His mouth causes me to get
Punished; I lose what I crave the most.

Though I know he will not drift
Lower than my belt, I still find my
Stomach clenching when his fingers wander.

The euphoria from his mouth
On my skin, biting me, bruising me,
Is that which I've never experienced.

The sensation of his lips on my
Chest, suckling ferociously, bursting
Blood vessels, marking me... is exhilarating.

The delightful pain from those
Marks remind me that
I am all his.

His eyes, looking into his eyes, is like
Staring into the clearest snow-globe: my eyes will
Linger, wonder, wander, search.

His steady glance is all it truly takes
For me to fall apart, though his words,
Whether they are of sunlight or of flames...

Consume me entirely.
For my boyfriend Cy.
Felix Dreams Oct 2017
I'm crazy..
Yes it took me a long time to figure it out because I never asked for help.  Usually people confined into me, I tell them what they need to hear and "****" they back in full function mode.  Until one day, I realized it was me, me stuck inside my own head thinking everyone else was crazy, tis was me!!!  
My love is crazy..
So crazy that it seems toooo real to be true.  Ever kiss and touch can stroke my chords but disappear by a crazy thoughts.  Crazy thoughts that would make me believe that you wasn't in crazy love with me because I wasn't too sane for you but in all reality you believe in me.  I'm just too crazy to comprehend the obvious.
MY Problem
Asking for help when my posture  is screaming for a hug but denying ever one because my slight moment of happiness my be a for day to attack my parade.
Leigh Jun 2017
every time you touch me
microscopic gunpowder explosions materialize
all over my defenseless body
balled up in my chest and spread over the surface of my skin
jittering like static shocks through my stomach and legs
i'm pulled toward you by a force so painfully strong
my face toward yours
my body toward your body
that my mind needs to tighten the reign it has on my mustang heart




                                                  i wonder what my touch does to you?
Essen May 2016
A fourth hail to the Pudding Factory
The owls' communion speaks of
Broken glass in the treehouse

Life amidst the burning bush is one of
Eating bark, like the salamanders from Labrador

Remember to bury lost socks
And build your tower of soap

For Autumn comes too quick here
And Summer speaks of the hungry bear

A fourth hail to the Pudding Factory
A fourth hail to you
Faith Inesso Mar 2015
It seems that I am indeed
Just another lost soul
Perhaps Floyd was right
Maybe the world is a fishbowl

But you see, the trouble
In all of this nonsense
Is that I still hope to see
You hop over my fence

Please tear down my wall
Oh, won't you come in?
I've been feeling comfortable
Yet numb, dismissing my sin

So what are we?
Essentially good, or not?
Do you find favor in Socrates?
Is Nietzche's idea the one you bought?

Let's question, let us wonder
Should my thoughts go assunder
Don't tip or toe, or go tumbling under
Nevermind the noise, it's just thunder

Get caught up in the spark
The rigid structure of light
Because you are alive
So live this gift of your life

— The End —