Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jun 5 · 72
Northern Lights
You asked and I answered.

It had been too long since we had been alone.

Just us, a great lake, and some dancing lights.

I watched you taking pictures, you noticed and turned the camera on me.

My sundress and copper waves blew any which way the wind commanded while I put my eyes on the lens.

In the shot they are dancing, the cornflower of my iris along with the purple and green lights in the night sky.

The corners of your wide mouth turned up when I slid down one sleave then the other to let the dress fall to the mix of smooth rock and course sand.

Snap.
flash.
Snap.
Flash.

I did not have to say it.

I gave the look you have known forever and you sat the camera down.

You tasted of the blackberry wine in our glasses. I drank you up.

So thirsty. So very eager.

Your heart raced beneath the hand I rested on your chest for support.

Your mouth then danced over

lip

chin

neck

shoulder

breast

rib

stomach

hip

lips
Jul 2023 · 870
Mom
Mom
I dont know if I can do this much longer.
This.
Everything.
Nothing is mine.
I own nothing.
Anything I build is knocked down.
In any other scenario I'd be the victim.

No longer a person.
No longer able to be me.
In this I am the G.O.A.T
My life reduced to inspiration ****.
Dec 2022 · 1.1k
Bahama Mama
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.  
The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection.
I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini.
You have such large and capable hands
I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us.
In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung.
We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder.
You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck.
You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life.
I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit.
I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in.
I capture your mouth to silence my moans.
You smell like the sea we had played in most the day.
Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared.
As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again.
I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping.
Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment…
You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch.
“Could this day get any more perfect?”
I did not answer.
I was still swimming.
Bimini
I woke up every morning, got myself dressed for school, and then had breakfast with my ******.  

Everyone knew what he was but no one stopped him.  

Why wasn’t I enough to protect?
Jul 2021 · 1.9k
Chicago Baby
The knock was soft.  I knew it would come.  Why you even bothered is the question. You know I'm yours.  I open the door slowly, hoping it doesn't squeak. It does.  I decide not to care.  They know.  They all knew you'd come knocking.  You always do.  And, I always answer.  
We've seen each other all day.  I'd glance your way and catch you looking at me and vice versa.  The hello embrace lasting a moment longer than our other friends.  You still instinctively protect me, you take the outside as we stroll through the city,  you won't let me walk alone,  you take my hand on uneven ground.  I'm precious cargo to you.  You make sure I remain intact. Make sure my kids get me back whole.  I'd forgotten what it felt like to be cared about like that.   I look up to you now standing in the hall so very tall and bare foot.  I feel the corner of my mouth lift and watch as yours follow and then you step in and shut the door behind you.  No words.  But you say everything as you capture me. I'm on my toes nearly hovering as you pour years worth of hunger into our first kiss-since the world went completely mad.  I can't get enough.  **** I'm crying.  Why am I crying? You deepen the kiss pulling me even closer into you.  And, then you just hold me there against your long and lean flesh.   I sigh relief as you rest your chin on the top of my head and begin humming the song you wrote for me a decade before.  I feel my mask slip.  I feel myself- the real me-poke her head out. I can be weak. I can be vulnerable. I can be mad.  I can feel when I'm with you. You let me.  I'm more than a mother when I'm alone with you.   You smell like you.  A simple statement but there's no other smell to equate it to.  I could find you blind folded and hands tied in a crowd.   I even know the way you breathe.  Which steps belong to you as you take the stage in the dark.   I know you, Rock Star.  More than you want to allow.  I am now kissing any part of you I can reach.  Your chest,  the tattoos starting from shoulder down to wrists,  I lift your capable fingers and press my lips to two.  Your amber eyes are hot and you could not hold back your moan.  You know this mouth: you know what it does to you.  And,  so it begins.  The steps toward the plush bed.  The blinds are wide open with city lights, traffic, stars, and a Great Lake  in the near distance.  I push you gently and you oblige by falling back and watching me undress.  
"*******"  you whisper into the night. I know this is not wise.  I don't care.  I've nothing but myself to lose.  
You struggle to breathe  the moment my hand reaches your zipper.  You're swollen so thick I'm almost scared of how good this is going to hurt.  I start at your base and slowly lick up.  I keep my blue eyes on your face as it fills with passion I take the tip allowing my slobber to get you nice and sloppy.  I work it until you're gripping my long copper hair with one hand and the designer sheets with the other.  I open my throat and take the length and you curse and arch and moan.  My hand on your defined stomach I feel my ***** drip as your chiseled abs tighten.   Don't you dare ***...yet.  I crawl on all fours up to your mouth. My fat *** and sopping wet ***** pressed down on you and I capture your wide mouth. You eagerly return my violence nipping and groping my hips and *** so hard I knew I'd have prints.  Sitting up some you feast on my *******.  I *** once and then twice. I didn't bother to muffle the sound for our friends.  I knew they were grinning.  They know us.  They have seen our dance before.   I *** again...and then you shift the weight and toss me to the bed even as I'm quaking and trying hard to recover so I can see that perfect face fill with pleasure. No such luck as you show no mercy. You toss my legs over one strong shoulder and slide all of yourself into me at once.  I can barely breathe and I don't give a **** if I ever do again.   It's you.  It's always been you.  My baby. My hearts desire.  The ******* who worships me.  You take long strides into me and your thumb slides into the exact right place between wet folds.  I try to scream your name but I can't form it and so I just drown.  You're talking to me but I can barely hear you I'm so deep below the surface.   What? Oh I comply and get on all fours.   You praise Jesus at the sight of my *** and ***** presented at once and toy with me by sliding the tip against the lips before entering slow.  You're savoring this trying not to explode in me just yet.  I'm so hungry I begin to bounce my *** off you and you start speaking in tongues.  Harder faster deep.  I feel my hot *** drip down my thighs.  I can barely hold my self up and soon give up and I'm now on my belly stuffing a pillow in my mouth so that all of Chicago doesn't know how good you **** me.   No one else comes close.   I hate that it’s true.  Because, it means I’m never satisfied when we are worlds apart. You're so close, sweating to me, as deep and you could get you're moving my hair and kissing my shoulder and then teeth sink in as you fill me with hot ***.  More?  Oh god baby.  You moan in my ear and one hand finds mine gripping the sheets and it links our fingers as the other takes a hand full of hair.  You're still moving in me giving me every last hot drip.  When you finally fall to the side  you rest your hand on my *** and we both struggle for air.    The only thing I needed more than that was what came next.  When you can finally catch your breath you begin the worship.  The kissing. Every inch of me, each eyelid, the nose you think is so **** cute, the lips you sing about,  chin, shoulder,  you linger around each ****** making me beg for it before your tongue flicks over. You feast on one with your talented mouth and work the other with your thumb and forefinger.  You're an artist. You create and making love with me is yet another passion project. A challenge to you. How much can you wreck me?  How sloppy sticky and utterly ****** can you **** me? I feel my brains leak out my ears as you trial down.  How many times before we met had I watched you on screen and dreamed of your wide mouth on me?   You kiss my lips and then **** gently and I arch and moan your fingers are long you curve them and slide two inside.  I'm screaming until the pleasure is too much and no screams can form. I almost want to pull away from the sweet pain then  you lock my thighs in your strong arms and lift my *** off the bed to bury that pretty face.    I know this moment of almost too much pleasure will boil over and when it does I'll be a pool of flesh and *** and not much else.  The world could end and as long as your tongue is inside me I don't give a ****.  And it comes. The next wave to take me under.  I'm gone.  Will I ever return? 


Part Two:

The heat of the shower was a lovely shock. I step in moments before you.  There's two heads and the shower is ample but you want to be close so ignore that fact. You step in and skimmed your wide mouth over my wet shoulder before embracing me from behind.  We say nothing as the water rains down on us.  But, I could feel your yearning. The relief in finally connecting.   I love you, too.   This entire time.  And, always.   I also sorta hate you.  But, we will worry about that when you're not sliding your hands down slick and ample curves.
Jun 2021 · 906
I will be Okay
I am okay.  
I do miss the morning texts.
I miss being loved.
But, was I really?
Our definition of love varies.
Our definition of loyalty  are miles apart.
Our definition of morals are ions.

I am okay.
I miss glancing over and having blue eyes on me-
trying so hard to read me
but you never could.

I am okay.
Then little things remind me.
But, mostly I feel stupid I ever wanted you.

You had me.
I was yours.
You could had kept me forever if you really wanted to.
Ugh, that is not true even if I tried so hard to believe it.
I could barely tolerate the rage that is in you, the need to bully, the need to drink your life away...the denial that you are doing just that.
It is going to get worse before it gets better.
What else are you willing to lose?
Or was I never anything to you?
You sure didn't make me a priority.  
Always claiming good intentions as you broke my heart again and again.
I miss the concept of you but not the actual man.
I deserve more than you are.  
I would rather be alone then with you.
Toxic.
Fragile.
Angry.
So, utterly broken and in his own way.

I am going to be okay.
Are you?
May 2021 · 872
Fantasy Girl
Somewhere in the middle
I teeter
I sway
I see myself furiously gathering my things too often
I cross your lawn alone at night.
Love me
you say
as if that is enough
as if love will fix it
When has it ever been enough?
When will I be enough?
Me
ME
You push me out and get upset when I leave
You want me to just calm down
because my feelings are inconvenient to you
I literally bend backwards for you
you don't want me
but the fantasy
I am in the middle
but my feet aim away.
May 2021 · 805
Gas lighter
Does it make you feel better?
Just how much do you hate you?
Enough to try and make me hate myself.
You failed.
Gas lighter, it back fired.
I am still good.
I am still here.
Just no longer here for you.
May 2021 · 762
Truth Serum
Seven shots of tequila and one or three cocktails later I lifted my phone.
In my camera I thought about how beautiful you would say I am.
So into that camera I began to spill.
I rambled on. I fumbled words. I laughed. My voiced cracked. Club music played behind me.
I still hit send because I am an idiot.
Days pass and night comes. I am in your bed. My head on your shoulder as my fingers toy with the soft patch of hair on your chest.
Please? you ask as your finger lingers over the button. You had already watched it more than once and wanted to watch it with me.
How was I going to say no?
And, so I watched myself drunk with truth serum tell you my passion, my love, my devotion, my fears, my hopes for us.
I can hear your heart quicken as your  grip on my hip tightens. The moment the video ends you are rolling me to my back. The weight of you makes me wet as you capture my mouth and pour your returned passion. love, fear, and hope into a kiss.
Your mouth and teeth move from breast to ******* over and over as you take long strides into my silky smoothness. I don't know where one ****** ends and another begins  You capture my mouth and we drink from each other in long desperate gulps.
It had been too long since love had been kind.
Since love had been real.
You are hanging on as if I could leave you at any minute. You're in me as deep as you can go and ******* my bottom lip as I moan. My pretty  pink-then candy red ****** then gets your attention and I marvel at your long your lashes are, And, then those lust filled diamond eyes flutter open and I lose my ******* mind.  The heat soaks my porcelain thighs. You don't want to let go. you dont want the moment to end. You hang on bury your face in me and breathe me in. I feel your love and desperation more than I ever thought I would be allowed to witness.
What you need to know and never once doubt is that Tequila was not speaking.
I was.
I want this more than I have wanted anything in a long time.
I want us.
I want you.
My blue eyed mushroom hunting nerd.  I love you.
Apr 2021 · 714
Two Storms Colliding
I have to keep reminding myself why we don't work.
All my heart wants to remember is how we do.
I have to remember the ways you are not good to me or for me.
Because, my body wants to take you in over and over again.
Logic has to prevail here. I can't go back.
I hope you wouldn't take me back if I tried.
I hope you're thinking of how many times we have been unhappy and not how you felt in my embrace.
Don't think about how I held you or my hands running down your back.
Do not remember how we laughed or how I moaned and bit your sheets.
Remember my frown. Remember that I don't fit with you.
Don't let me back in.
You once called us two storms colliding.
We made a wreck of each other.
It wasn't what I wanted.
You were what I wanted.
But, I guess I didn't really know you at all.
You are so utterly broken.
I'm a little broken, too.
Apr 2021 · 691
Kissy Face Emoji 😘
I wanted it so bad.
I wanted you.
I wanted us.
I wanted to love and be loved so desperately that I kept forgiving red flags.
No. Not flags but flashing neon signs. Billboards.
Why if you were not the one did it feel so magical when you put your lips on my neck?
Why if we weren't matched did you feel so right inside?
How do I move on from eyes as blue as yours?
I'm never going to earn that sideways grin again.
Ending it probably saved me.
But, every morning I don't wake up to a message filled with pet names or get a kissy face  mid day...
I almost cant fathom tomorrow morning.
I want to run  to you.
I want to cry and be touched by you.
I love you. I love you so much.
But, I don't like you.
Apr 2021 · 653
Be My Girl
You're sorry.
I am inclined to believe you.
That doesn't mean I can forgive.
You were hurting  but had choices and none of them have been me.
You swear you're not the bad guy I make you out to be and yet you've never been good to me.
Be my girl.  You say as you slide into another.
Let's just be happy.  You say those words  to me a then use the same line for any girl who can read.
But, that was before this time I want you.
I love you.
You just have to trust that.
Trust me even though I don't care if you feel safe.
I don't care if you feel important.
I wont cheat.
I wont let her go either.
But, I wont cheat.
I'm not that guy.
You say these things on repeat.
You're sad.  You need a nap.
You told me you wanted a life partner.
You cant even stick around to for the injuries you caused.
I'm to believe you will be able to support me for life?
Feb 2021 · 1.3k
Stuck
I am half way in.
Alarms ringing
I should run
Save myself from you.
My feet stay planted even as I look toward the exit.
I am stuck.
Afraid to step forward.
Too intrigued by the fire to step away.
Stuck in the middle.
Waiting to come to my senses.
Or for you to close the gap?
Stuck.
But, not forever.
I will run.
To you or away.
Feb 2021 · 719
in progress untitled
This is where we say goodbye, again.
It is a familiar place but cuts the same every time.
The last kiss before you go is always the hardest. I give it and the moment our lips part I crash into you again.
I am not ready for the last.
My sorrow is unkind but it is more real than ever.
You pull back and beg for mercy yet cling to me.
Your thumb tracing my jaw as your dewy eyes. admire.
"I'm coming back." you say.
I bite my tongue before I hurt you with my uncertainty.
You repeat the words because you can feel what I didn't say.
I wonder if I will ever be free of you.
I wonder if I will ever let myself love anyone else.
Someone who doesn't leave quite so much.
Mar 2020 · 698
Slide to Answer
I was folding a shirt when the familiar sound turned my head downward to the vibrating phone on the table beside me.

You. Why? You're supposed to leave me be.
I don't have to answer. I stare at it as it rings.
He will give up or leave a voicemail telling me why he
would do this to me.

Slide to answer. A swipe of a thumb and I'd be connected to the only man on earth I have loved.
I slide because it's ******* you.
It's you.

Seconds pass but they seem endless.

I speak your name. First with a question mark and then on a sigh as  I can hear your breathing.

You ask to see me.
I can only say your name again.
This time as a plea for mercy.
Release me.

I have to go I say and you say my name now.
Also a plea.

Goodbye.

I stare down at the screen then sit the phone back down where it was and I fold my clothes.

Will you come anyway?
**** me, I miss that face.
****. I want you to come.

But, don't you dare come.
Mar 2020 · 678
Family
They hide in families disguised as brother, father, uncle, nephew.
You see them at holidays, shoot the ****, and hug them good bye. until next time.  
Never knowing, until you know.

When you know,  the sickness swells.
The rage.
The end of obligated love.

Then you see them in family albums and you want to cut them out but it's your child they are holding. Big grin.

Family should be a safe place yet it usually is not.
Dark secrets.
Misguided shame.
Time to kick the door wide open and expose them for what they are.
Jan 2020 · 602
Soul Mate for the Soulless
I’m so tired

You come in looking the way you do
And I’m renewed

You smile and in those lines I see the years spent laughing
I forget about the tears

Your wide lips part
And I forget my name

I forget everything

Nothing is as important as crashing into you.

I’ve always loved you more than I’ve ever loved me.

You hate to hear it.
You tell me I’m everything.
Then you hop on a
plane.

Most of our years are spent 2,184 miles apart. I can and have loved you from further.

I’ll love you till my last breath.  
But, you ask too much of a lover you see in hotels and back rooms

You know me by heart.
You know my sense of humor.
You know what I dream about. My fears.
What I carry with me.
The guilt.
The trauma.
You know me inside out.
You  barely know me at all.

Your voice pours out my speakers. Poetry sang for anyone to hear but meant for me. I hear them. Every song new and old.

They are promises you swear were never made.  

Always were. Always will be.

I wonder when you’ll let me go.
Will we be doing this dance into our 80s?

Or maybe I should learn some self respect and stop taking your calls? Stop answering the door.
Stop running to whatever destination you ask me to come to.
If you can’t be kind enough to stop loving me.

You lift my hand to your mouth and press.
All is forgotten and I’m yours again.

Poet. Painter. Star. Man. *******. Best friend.

Soul mates.
I’ve watched your mouth say such things.
Silly things.
If true then we’re  ******* this life time up royally!
Dec 2019 · 579
You
You
I want to know you
What makes you tick
What makes your body hum
I want to explore every contour
The curves and edges
I want to know the real you
uncensored
Your thoughts
All the weird
All the fear
All the brave.
I want inside jokes
I want the ability to read your mood with one glance
I want you
All of you
Dec 2019 · 603
Envy
So many times I have been the envy of others.
"You're so lucky" they say,

There's been many times I have wondered how I got you.
Why you'd want me, let alone love me.

I don't feel lucky.
You have crushed me.

They can have you.
I am done.
Nov 2019 · 560
Here We Go Again
I watched you looking for me.
From high above I witnessed that line between your brow deepen as you chewed the corner of your mouth
then  you made an effort not to.

And, then you scowled at your phone.
chirp
I lift mine from my pocket, smile and reply
"Look up."

You look left then right and your honey hued eyes land on me.
Decades of smiles had formed lines and I got all 4 rows.

We play our games. Do what old friends do.

Hours pass and we are finally alone.
In an oblong shaped room a thin door separates us from them.
We can hear them trying not to be loud or put on that they are listening.
Will they wont they? They want to know.
We always do.

Is there any chance in hell? You ask.
I hesitate because yes is the death of me and no is impossible.

For once you keep your distance allowing me to breathe.
My body aching I can already taste you.

I tell you what it takes and inquire about what you need.
We sit on the tile floor against opposing walls.

I watch your long fingers fidget with a loose thread on your pant leg.
I close the distance and sit legs on either side of you.

It's the anniversary of the first time you touched me and I wanted to be touched again.
It had been so long.
No other touch mattered.
No one sees the real me like you do.

See me now, I say.
Your eyes heat and fixate on my lips and finally you touch me.
large hands cup and pull me unto your lap.

I wait for the crushing of eager mouths, the violence in our passion for each other.
Instead I get your head on my *******, you breathe me in and then out.
Your arms around me tight now.
My tears are hot.
You hold me there.

I press my lips gently against your scalp and remove the elastic band from your length of hair.
I then realize it's the band you stole from me years ago.
The one I see on your wrist often when you're in the world I will never fit in.
Then, my stomach turns. I do not fit because you dont make the room.

You're now freeing me of my jacket. Your lips gently pressing onto every inch of newly exposed skin.
The snow is building up on the ornate window behind us.
I'm not at all  that concerned.
I'm only worried if I will survive you this time.

Your teeth skim over flesh and bone, a threat of pleasure too intense for a thin door to conceal.
I lay back, now exposed, unto cold tile with gold leaves.
The corner of your mouth raises as you remove my boots and then kick out of your worn converse.
I watch you pull your shirt off over your head and then praised the gods I don't believe in for your abs.
On your knees now you roll leggings down. I lift and you moan at the sight you so love.

You cross my ankles and hold them in the air.
You watch my face as your thumb caresses swollen folds.
I whimper as the torture continues.

No!
I want to touch you!
I want to be close!
It's been too long since I have tasted that mouth.
I protest.

Shh.
You end all argument as your fingers slide in.
Slow at first and then hard as I arch up off the tile.
There's nothing to hold onto and no way to muffle my screams but to bite my own fist.
Wave after violent wave hits me and I go under and am content to drown with you.

I love you so much
Al lot more than I love myself.

You leave me heaving on the cold floor and I can barely see as I attempt to come back to the surface.
And then that mouth.
A rip tide takes me back under.

I can reach your hair now. There is so much of it.

I sing your name over and over as I arch and moan.
When my body goes limp your mouth moves upward kissing hip bone, stomach, breast and then neck.
You are above me now, I can feel your eagerness against my wet thigh.

I love you,
The words fall off wide lips before they take up mine.
You  enter.
Sweet and gently you stroke my hair and cup my face.
We drink from each other as you move in me.
My hands stroke the angles of you the strong back and up and over to cup your muscled little ***
and press you deeper in me as I raise my hips to take in more.
The air rushes out of your lungs as I grip you tight inside and beg you to ***.
You reply by nipping my bottom lip and dive faster and harder into me.

I’m no longer sure where your hair and mine begins and ends, We have so much of it and I try to pull yours back so that I can see your eyes.
Its as if you can never quite believe the intensity of us.  Years and years and we remain on fire.
You  let out a moan and then silence it as much as you could by biting my shoulder.
I don't think it worked, Hon.
A good 40 people heard you *** inside me.

We lay there on this cold pretty tile now.
Aftershocks of pleasure course through my body and I long to reach over and touch you but cant collect myself.

What have we done to ourselves, again?
Will it be different?
It has to be.
I cant say goodbye again.
Adult themed
Nov 2019 · 535
Where Two Presidents Meet
Little White house on the corner
Where two presidents meet

Not much to look at
yet it holds so much history

Nothing most would be interested in
Just a little girl's horror and shame

There in a room papered with puppies and kittens  
I, a child, laid in an ornate daybed

I should had been safe
I wasn't

I have not returned in so long
yet I also have never left

I sit
parked
strong and fragile
where two presidents meet
remembering the things better forgotten

But, one cant forget what shapes you.
All anyone can do is be better than where you came from
and hope that any child that may now sleep in
the house on Roosevelt street
is safer than I ever was.
Sep 2019 · 482
Fresh Start
I hate this place.
I hate the cold.
Hate the drawer that keeps getting stuck.
The sink that drips.
There's nothing here for me.


The next place will be better.
Maybe this time I will go to the ocean?
Live an inherited dream.

Pack up and go.
Leave winters behind.
Flip off my landlord that doesn't fix ****
and go.

My girls, the pup, kitty cats, and me...
Me.

No matter where I go I will be there.
My problems are packed along with the sheets and dishes.
There's no place I will be okay.
Unless I am okay with me.
Working out kinks
Sep 2019 · 672
Fucking Rock Stars
I sent a relauntant "yes" after letting you sweat for awhile. It wasn't punishment but I hope it hurt.
Then after what felt like forever there you were. It hurt.

I'm still shocked by how tall you are. Even after all these years. You wore the old cardigan my cigarette burnt through 9 years ago. It was closed and an old band shirt poked through it. Your hair a bit more gray curled on end. My mind wanted to linger on the ends and I had to order it to stop and concentrate on putting one leg in front of another.

I walked toward you and then veered toward the passenger side of the car to avoid the awkward hug ex lovers pretending to be friends do. **** it if you don't follow to reach over me and open the car door. I turned my face up toward yours and my eyes locked on your mouth. And, again that hurt. Like physically hurt my every cell.

"Thank you for seeing me." Your mouth said. I only nodded as you shut the door behind me and tried not to watch you walk around to the drivers seat.

You were in my town and so I guided you to the nearest interstate. And, then we didn't speak. I saw your hand on the gear shift between us, your long fingers twitching. I knew you were eager touch me. I knew you were afraid to.

You were the brave one. Giving my knee a pat and asking me about the kids and dog.

And, then we were there. Your large hand on the the small of my back,
We entered a world more suited to you. A hotel with five stars in it's advert. Nowhere I could be without you. We went through the motions. You politely speaking to the woman at the desk and then returning to take my hand in yours.
My hands always feel small in yours. Our fingers link and your thumb caresses me as it always has. Like the day we met. When you lingered too long in a handshake. You led me to the elevator.
And, as we reached the top floor you had the audacity to lift our entwined hands to your mouth and skim your lips across my knuckles. You ******* *******. Don't you dare remind me I am yours.

There was a few thousand mile long steps from the elevator to your room. We couldn't get there quick enough but were too cool to run. You opened the door and I walked passed you to the large window that over looked a familiar city but I'd never seen it from a place like this.

I felt you come near. I can always feel you before we even touch. You gently pressed your lips on my bare shoulder and I swear my dead heart came to life. For a second I almost forgot you were the one that killed it.

No. I turned and  looked up into the face I and so many women loved. I was prepared to be a *****. To yell. To cry. Instead I tore at your clothes.

You hissed more than once as I sank teeth and claws into long lean muscle covered in tattoos. You said my name. Begging me to stop. To listen to you. To let you tell me how much you missed me. I'd heard all this ******* before.

I left you there to hide in the bathroom. I looked at myself there. Naked in a bathroom nicer than my apartment. My face was flushed my chest blotchy and red.
Finally your words came through the thin bathroom door.

"Please. Let me in."
It wasn't locked. But, I said nothing.
The door opened slightly and then more. My blue eyes met your honey brown in the mirror.

You came to me wrapping your long arms around me and kissing my shoulders and neck moving my length of copper as you pleased. I felt my defenses crumble.  I was helpless to what we are and always have been.   I, then watched my own mouth gap open as your talented hands slid down. I melted into a puddle onto cold granite. My cheek pressed against the mirror your fingers slid between wet thighs and you slipped into me from behind. Filling me. I can only scream and moan as you get to speak. You ******* *******.

"I love you. Oh my god I ******* love you." You cry on repeat.

That's somehow less romantic as you pound the holy hell out me after crushing my heart last time we were alone.

Hours of this and then you have the ******* nerve to hold me, caress me, and kiss the top of my head? I hate you. I hate myself for this.

After I have ****** that beautiful bottom lip enough I may tell you how much.

*******, Rock star. Let me give you yet another hit single.
A project in progress.
Aug 2019 · 481
Battlefriendship
You will not sink me.
No no no.
Call out all you want
I will defend what is mine.
I'll sink you before you can destroy me.
You will see.
You will learn.
I'm not that easily sunk.
I say this too soon as my lips reluctantly part.
You've sunk my battleship
The pieces then fly red and white into the air to then rain down upon us.
You stare down at my clenched fist amongst the many ships once in order
Once in line.
And, I ask the question that hangs in the air
How can we be friends when your strategy is to destroy my fleet?
You say it's just a game.
Just a game?
Just a game?!
Am I some sort of loser to you?
I leave you to clean up the tiny plastic pieces of our relationship.
Your last words ring in my ears.
Eat a Snickers, Man
A poem written for GISH a scavenger hunt. One of the items asked to write poetry based on board games. I decided to be overly competitive and a sore loser. Channeling my inner Monica from Friends
Jul 2019 · 453
Hotel Rooms
Somewhere between the next city and the last we lay
Entwined in hair
And spit
And sweat
And ***

You reach for me
My body instinctively responds
Magnets we are.
Your fingertips dance playfully up and down
The curves of me.
I laugh and forget for a moment
You leave.

You always leave
Jun 2019 · 500
In Dreams
I can't wait to fall asleep because when I do you are not across the country. You are with me in the places we once were.

In that hammock by the lake making up fake names for stars.
On that bench outside the Ice cream shoppe watching people and licking the sticky from our fingers.
In dozens of hotel rooms and arenas against the closed door, Your wide mouth hungry and brutal. Your hands greedy and knowledgeable.

In dreams the complications are gone. The goodbyes not said. The hurt isn't there.  

In dreams are where you say the things you haven't when we are wide awake. The things that could fix us if you really wanted us to be fixed.

Sometimes in dreams it is just your face. Those amber eyes on me. So intense filled with hurt, need, and desire.  That mouth so wide and ****. It parts and art pours out. I know what it can do. I know how dangerous it is and yet always arch up toward it. The smile sometimes more of a smirk because you know how pretty a man you are. And, when that smile is full a double row of smile lines appear across that face i know so well. In a full room all eyes fall on you but when we are alone that smile is just mine. In dreams it doesn't fade. Your voice doesn't shake. The promises are never spoken so could never be broken.

Alarm clocks are a cruel reminder that we may never have that again. We may never be able to fix us. Because, it takes more than pretty words from your too pretty mouth to make the real things last.
May 2019 · 910
Invisible Child
A little girl sits
unheard
unseen

She watches the others play
laugh
compete

Their voices fill the air
in the distance a dog barks
Beneath her cool grass

She doesn't have friends.
She doesn't know how to be one.

They don't include her.
They try not to glance her way.

She is different,
She is weird.
So, they pretend she's not there.

I see you, little girl.
I was you.
Unheard, unseen.

What they don't know is the world inside
your head is greater than this one.
Your imagination will take you places beyond this.

Your strength will **** out the weak.
Your unique self will inspire those deserving to know you.

You aren't invisible to the right people.
I see you.
I love you.
We are Autism strong.
In progress. Feedback welcome

Inspired by a photo I took of my little girl sitting in the grass watching other kids play beside her. They never ask her to join. They shoot a look her way and then divert their eyes. she is nonverbal with severe autism and OCD ticks. She is also creative, funny, clever, curious, and affectionate but they will never know. I know how she feels because I was her once.
May 2019 · 410
November 11th
I guess we are friends now.
We used to be that and more.

You used to move in me and I praised
God, Jesus, and The Holy Ghost, too.

I know I will see you again.
I know I will stand in the crowd and
look up at you as you make them all love you.

You will know I am  there whether I tell you or not,
whether you read this and know.
You know me.
I know you.
I know you will feel me the moment you cross that imaginary line into my home state.

What happens if I walk on back beyond the crowd and make my way through those
who know? Would you know I was coming before I got to you? Would they play telephone
and would you be there waiting with a lump in your throat?

What then when I walk in and your friends clear the room?
What then, Pal?

Summer alone? The fall brings you here. Bring your mouth.
Mar 2019 · 408
Electric Trees
I feel you there in the place with electric trees.
You are playing games, making casseroles, and sometimes thinking about me.

I type the words and wonder if you're watching the dots bounce and then I retreat.
Backspace.
No, I can't. I need to leave you alone to heal.

I picture you in the tub.
Candle lit and octopus shadow cast on your ceiling.
I wonder if you ever sink down beneath the water to drown me out for just a moment.


For a moment I don't think about you. I am fine. And, then there you are.
A comment online not even directed my way.
Seen. Lingered over and then I scroll on.

I argue with myself and make bargians with the you in my imagination.
Would the real you be receptive?
Maybe?
But, we would just be kidding ourselves again.

Maybe we never should had started?
We knew the risk.
We discussed them all in detail.
We both stepped into this eyes wide open.

But, would I do it again?
Maybe.
Would you?
Maybe.

And, then I remember how you kiss me as if one of us is off to war.
How you smell me when you think I don't notice.
How, your blue eyes run hot when you are inside me.
And. I know I would.
I wouldn't give those moments away just because it hurts now.
I'd still chose you even if I knew I would be losing you soon after.

I'm either stupid or romantic.
Well, let's admit I am both.

Know this,
Every time I pass the electric trees
-for the rest of my years-
I will remember us there.
Moaning, laughing, snoring.
I miss you.
Mar 2019 · 952
Jade
She has big eyes and a big heart.
Both are telling.
Neither she can control.
She forgives easy and holds grudges.
She's complex and simple all at once.
Simple in the ways that make her happy.
Windows down
music up
long winding roads
and a full tank of gas.

Complex in how she sees the world
ugly, exhausting, alluring,
and so beautiful.

She has a gypsy soul.
A little from her mother and mother's mother
and a lot all her own.

She loves too much.
No, she loves just right.
She gives too much.
Forgiving those who rarely give back.
Those who don't deserve her love and take her light.

She doesn't know how beautiful she is.
She's more than big eyes, curved lips, *******, and bone.
She is light, laughter, strength, loyalty, and acceptance.
She is a safe place for the broken, the weary,and the weird.  

There is a war in her.
It leaves her tired and battle scarred.
But, she's still standing.
She's still fighting.

May she always know she isn't alone.
May she love herself as much as I love her.
May she see herself as I see her.
May she know she taught me every bit as much as I taught her.

My daughter.
A woman now.
No longer my Tater.
Forever my friend.
Feb 2019 · 392
The Cover Up
There is a secret place where I've buried all my questions
never again to be asked
never again to be contemplated
I lit the flame to burn all the photographs but I so hesitated
No I can not
No I must not
No no no
I will not
But I must
I must burn them and keep the images in the deepest parts of me
I must never look in that direction again
I must never speak of him again
No what ifs, Whys, or hows.
It never was.
I must dig a hole and bury the evidence
I must plan my alibi
My future is uncertain as it relies on lies
I was never here.
He never hurt me.
In progress
Feb 2019 · 513
Wanted
I want you.
I want you in me.
I want your mouth.
I want the salt of your skin to linger on my tongue long after we part.

I want you.
I want your bad jokes.
I want your lingering gaze.
I want your smile when I say "Hi." when I mean to say "I am falling hard. And, it scares me."

I want you.
I want your fears laid out for me so that I may help conquer them.
I want your emoji game to get better and better. (Gimme all those gifs, Baby)
I want your indecision spoken aloud so I can  help you choose us again and again.

I want you.
The guilt you carry for things long done.
The things that keep you awake at night.
You can trust them with me when you're ready to tell.

I want you, but I don't need you.
I can live without you.
I am plenty strong.
I have survived worse than losing you.

I am choosing you.
Want is stronger than need.
Need is desperation.
Need is suffocating.

I don't have to love you.
But, I want to.
I hope to.
I will.
Find a gif for this one, Babe
Feb 2019 · 399
Remnants
He paints.
He paints me.
He paints what I left behind.
The marks I made.
My lingering parts.
He uses lines.
Copper paint such as my hair.
True blue such as my eyes.
Chaos, passion, pain.
Always beauty.
To him I am beauty.
To him I won't leave.
I am his even if I am not.
And, so he paints.

All the admirers want to know what it is they are staring at.
What they stood in line to buy.
He speaks pretty words from a pretty mouth and says nothing of me.
They hang me on their walls.
Then it's no longer me. It is what they see.
But, to him
the lines,
the copper,
the true blue,
the spattered black.
It is me.

Maybe if he told them I wouldn't be a ghost?
I wouldn't be someone lost to grieve.
Maybe if he hadn't hidden me in lines I would be more than paint and memories?

He speaks with paint.
His art talks about what I left behind.

He forgets he left things, too.
A lot more than just his faded shirt and spare key.
He left his mark on me forever.
A wound that will never heal into a scar.
Jan 2019 · 452
I am here
I have never been as strong as people say I am
I don't know where the notion came from
I don't know why they assume and leave me alone
to handle what comes at me
What pulls me down
What takes my joy
What clouds my judgement

For once I would like someone to say:
You have been strong enough alone.
I am here now, too.
Jan 2019 · 450
Spin Me 'Round
Spin me 'round
Spin me 'round
and spin me 'round again
Spin me 'till I am dizzy
                  and
too confused to see the door

Waste my life
Hurt my friends
Wait!
What friends?

Oh, spin me 'round
Spin me 'round some more.
Jan 2019 · 397
A Mess
Paper is my liberation
Ink is my weapon
Men are my poison

I am often wrong
always wrong
and always sure I will be.

A beautiful mess.

Lonely at the top?
I would not know.

Always in line.
I wait.
I wait for nothing and no one.
Jan 2019 · 351
Nice Dreams
Nice dream.
White horse in a meadow.

Nice dream,
The ocean crashing to shore.

My reality,
he took my sweet dreams away.

Nice dream,
He is dead.
Jan 2019 · 503
Fools
The things they say to describe me

Beautiful
Stunning
Sweet
Funny
Cute
Smart
Good
Wild
Strong
Se­xy
and more..

Their words from their mouths and yet it is not enough.

Because, passion, laughter, and adventure is meh.
Loyalty, friendship, trust, and a ready ear isn't so important.

I AM all these things.
I am made of soft skin, obscene curves, a true smile, and empathy.

And, yet never enough for these fools.
Jan 2019 · 705
Stay
We desperately tried to cram forever into a couple of hidden days.
I was so busy soaking him in that I rarely asked why we had to.

It was always about the count down.
The count to when he was near. How many states we had between.
The weeks, days, hours, minutes...until we connected. Then the pull.
The impatient drag to a quiet place.
The mad rush to crush flesh against flesh.
And. Then the timer until he was gone would start.
Making every look. Every creased smile, every finger trail down tight flesh and each and every one of his sweet sighs of pleasure one of the last.

Even our very first kiss was one of our last.


We were doomed to end .
I didn't want to face we had expiration because he swore we were meant to be.
Even now after so much pain.

He felt the same.
He said so in his lingering touch, his hesitation to let go.
His soft brown eyes always lingered on my face taking the mental pictures he would need to survive the distance between us he created.
The words he wanted to say always hung in the air but they were never spoken.
Every thing else was.
He always said
I adore you. You're my best friend.

He asked for every piece of me
But, only gave pieces of his world to me.

But. Did he say "Stay." ?
Stay by his side.
In his bed.
In his world.
He never did.
He asked for every piece of me
But, only gave pieces to me.

And, so I had to walk away.
We shared a home.
We shared shame.

I gave you love.
You gave me the gift of never trusting a man again.

You wanted my body.
I wanted you dead.

One night I held a knife as you crept in.
I couldn't do it.
I could now.

The next morning we had breakfast together.
The days went by.
The weeks.

And, then you took your opportunity when I was most vulnerable.
I woke to the invasion.
Sick. Medicated.
And, I did nothing.
I watched the fan blades spin.

You apologized.
You aren't forgiven.

I was a child.
Your child.

Hang your head in shame alone because I feel it no longer.
I did nothing but survive.

I wont be silent.
Never again.
Sep 2018 · 381
Pretty flowers
Pretty flowers.
A silver ring.
Lovely words sang for all to hear.

They do not matter without you.
All I ever wanted was morning.
All it took was a thumbs caress.

I can reach out and touch the pretty flowers you sent
but they do not touch me back.
Sep 2018 · 1.2k
Friends with Benefits
People warn that being friends with benefits never ends well.
They say someone always develops feelings.
Someone always gets hurt.

I want feelings.
I want to care.
Because I mean the friends part.

Trust me with your secrets.
Tell me about your bad day.
Let me know about the people and things that have hurt you.

***** about work.

I'm going to make fun of you.
I promise.
I will likely get mad at you and wish I never cared. But, I wont stop.

I'm going to give you advice unsolicited or asked.
I'll pick you up from the airport.
I will  help you move your couch as long as you pivot.

I am going to laugh with you at every joke either of us cracks.
I might laugh AT you a time or two.
I will take your side in an argument as long as your position isn't that rock is dead.

And, I will also spread for you.
I'll open my legs and take you in and we will sing together.
Then when we are sweaty and breathless I will lay in bed and talk about nothing and everything with you.

We ARE friends
and that is the real benefit.
Sep 2018 · 2.0k
A Dancer in the Street
This girl doesn't care that it's August. She will wear her snow boots because she likes that they light up.

This girl doesn't care there is no music. She will dance where she wants to the music in her mind.

She doesn't care who is watching. Or who disapproves.

I wish to be more like her.
I wish more were like her.

I hope no one stifles it out of her.

No, "Sit still"
No, "Calm down"
No, "Be embarrassed"

Be you.
Be like her if you're inclined to.
Be a dancer in the street.
My daughter has autism and doesn't care what you think of her. she lives life to the fullest.
Sep 2018 · 345
Real
5 friends from California. The front man being Alec ******* Mann. Chiseled from the gods. Pretty. Oh so ******* pretty.  He had olive skin stretched over long and lean muscle and then covered in tattoos. His " I don't care hair" was  wavy with hints of sand mixed with hues of medium brown.  His eyes slanted slightly downward and were of an almond shape. The irises a deep honey brown; though later I realize can change.  His cheek bones were a  gift to him  from a  close native American bloodline. I cant say enough to do his mouth justice. Wide. I still cant look at it too long without getting soak and wet.  He wasn't the type of man that should be real. But,  he was real enough. Real on screen, real in articles and interviews , real in the fantasies of many, and eventually very real to me.
An excerpt from a novel in progress.
Mar 2015 · 580
Red
Red
How can you trust me?

After all the proof is in red.

I won't  rationalize.

I lied.

It came so naturally.

But, I will ask you this;

Can you be trusted with the truth?

Oh, righteous one, you're so **** fragile sitting up high with your gable ready-

Ready to come crashing down.

My sentence?

A life of resentment.

It is true that I don't always like me, but at least I know me.  

Who are you?!

You have no dreams  

At least none that you've shared with me.

So, yes  I lied and I'm almost sorry but I'm not lying to myself any longer.

This is not working.
Jan 2015 · 548
Forgiveness
You can pray to your god for forgiveness.
You can forgive yourself.
This doesn't make you forgiven.

Oh, so you feel better now?
You can move on with your life without the burden you have given to me.
Good for you.

You are not forgiven.
Somethings can't be.

Behind your facade you know this to be true.
You can bury your guilt behind walls of self help and tales of dead carpenters, but it doesn't change how guilty you are.

You're a thief.
The thief of my childhood.

You know it's true.
Nov 2014 · 584
Awakening *Trigger Warning*
Pain.

So much all at once.

Awakening to to a broken body she gasped and nearly allowed the darkness to take her again.

Cold.

So very cold.

She tried to open her eyes and discovered they were swollen shut. Again she coaxed them to respond and managed to open one to the sliver of red light.

A fire?

Yes, the smell of wood.

Panic.

Chained.

She pulled against them but alas her battered body betrayed her efforts to escape.

The pain was sharp and hot.

Ribs, face, lips...cracked......water she wished for water, wrists, shoulders, between her thighs....

No.

No, no, no.

She wept now until the thought came.

A nightmare?

Would she wake safe in her bed?

In her small town, where nothing happened and you know your neighbors because no one ever left.

She willed herself to wake and force the memories out....

but they came.
Oct 2014 · 3.2k
My Daughter's Voice
I have.....
curly hair
autism
a sunburn
freckles
a black cat
a blister! AAAHHH get a bandaid!!! MOOOMMMYYY!!!

I am.....
left handed
long legged
a girl
funny


My ID card describes me as:
caucasian-whats that mean?
female
minor
blue eyes
red hair

All of this describes me
None of it defines me
My daughter is 4 years old, autistic, non verbal, and as cool as it gets.  I'll do my best to speak for her until she finds her own voice.
Jun 2014 · 918
Gossip (Bla Bla Bla)
"You will never believe who is dating who?
Can you believe that girl is pregnant? She doesn't know who the father is.
And, that guy...whisper I think he is THAT way.
His poor wife. She is whisper black, you know?
Have you seen Joe, lately? He is really packing on the pounds.
And, Jane is not aging very gracefully at all."
BLA BLA BLA!
I have to ask the gossipers
Do you ever wonder what people are saying about you?
I'd overheard co-workers gossiping and scribbled this down on a napkin.
Jun 2014 · 610
My Mother's Daughter
She wants to get away.
Tis why she hides her nose in books of far off places.
She does not like herself.
In me I see traces of her.
This is only natural,
she is the one I looked to...
then swore to never be like.
I am not her.
I am me.
Yet, I want to run, too.
Sand between my toes and the long yellow line behind me.
But, anywhere I go the past will find me.  
And, so I face it.  
And, learn to like me.  
Because in my own daughters I see traces of me.
Next page