#barscene
Don’t be upset about it
I will get to know you someday
But tonight I just want to fly with you
When you looked at me that way
I didn’t think about forever
Only what I needed to give back to you
How many eyes have you met?
Did they melt into the sea while you watched?
I can only say I know what you look like
And it’s good enough for me
Whether my thoughts are ******
Or exactly how you want them to be
I will only know when they touch you
Looking across a room
Every secret you die to resist
Is ready to strip itself naked before you
How many men have you met?
How many told you the things I already know?
I can only say that I know how you feel
And it’s good enough for me
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
I danced all night in the dress He gave us--
Pins stuck in my hips
Zippered through my spine
I even painted my lips
To match His werewolf eyes
"You're beautiful baby"
He takes in a mouthful
I slink at the waist
Just how He likes me
"Let's get you a drink"
And I feel the sway
He bathes me in blood
He takes me away
Tonight I'll be His **** nurse
His seasoned strip steak thigh
His Only 18
His innocent eyes
Tomorrow I will lick the wounds
And pray He'll call again
Tomorrow marks another night
Of dancing in His dress
--
c
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
Listening for the sun, pretty ballerinas waiting
Glasses full of ice but what of their hearts; are
they still hoping or is it just sadness escaping?
Reality or mere existence, it’s hard to know how to live
Solitary women making their lips sing, but would the
stars remember what tomorrow can never forgive?
There was nothing I could say
Walking inside a fish bowl
You can’t hear the light
But what we choose to see
Is either the prism of what is right
Or the shadow of what is wrong
Listening for the sun, desperate men burning
Eyes full of passion but what of their hearts;
are they still hoping or is it a memory forgetting?
Reality or mere existence, it's hard not to think of it
Solitary men making their voices heard; but would
meaning choose which candle would finally be lit?
There was nothing I could say
Walking inside a fish bowl
You can’t hear the light
But what we choose to see
Is either the prism of what is right
Or the shadow of what is wrong
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC