Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
wcb Mar 1
I.
Under neon lights, she reigns—
a queen of shards,
a heart wrapped in barbed wire.

She wears ugliness inside
like a crown,
choosing coins over cradles,
betrayal over bonds.

Her whole life built
on the wreckage of those who dared
to love her,
to offer her their beating hearts—
she takes,
tearing through affection with sharp smiles,
leaving behind a trail of ruin.

Love, a weapon;
trust, a currency to be spent.
She moves through shadows,
a specter of greed,
devouring kindness,
spitting out bones.

Each night, a masquerade,
each day, a charade fades.
She's a storm,
wearing beauty like a mask,
hiding the void within.

She trades warmth for wealth,
sells pieces of a self warped long ago.
Lovers are stepping stones
to her next conquest,
discarded once dry.

She's a lesson in destruction,
a tale of caution whispered in the dark—
of a woman who would be queen,
ruling a kingdom of ashes,
alone on a throne
of her own making.


II.
Amid vows sworn to one, her fidelity swayed,
Led astray by desires, in shadows played.
Impregnated by four, during her matrimonial guise,
Her actions weaving a tapestry of lies.

Her pursuit of others’ warmth, leaving her own kin in the cold,
A testament to a heart, once warm, now sold.
In her quest for more, she lost what was true,
The innocent love of the children she once knew.

Neglect and betrayal; her legacy to the two she bore,
One mirrors her greed, a reflection hard to ignore.
The other, a life lost, a candle snuffed out too soon,
While she ****** another man dry in her marital room

The living child, a vessel for her venal dreams,
The lost, a whisper of what could have been, it seems.
Both a reflection of lives led astray,
By a mother’s depraved choices, day by day.

You, a mirror of the abyss, where empathy dies,
A lesson learned in the guise of the wise.
Yet, from the ashes of bridges you burned,
Rise the phoenixes of the lessons I learned.

In uncovering the depth of your deceit,
A welcome truth, more bitter than sweet.
A journey to sever the ties that once bound,
And in their unraveling, a new path found.

Now whole, amidst my true mate's embrace,
Found in another’s heart, my rightful place.
Her beauty not plastic, her soul not a lie,
Brilliant teeth her own, not bought by some guy.

United in vows, a bond pure and true,
Together, we welcome life anew!                           (can you?)
Our child, cradled in warmth and light,
Will know a love unmarred by spite.

In her eyes, a future bright and clear,
A world of kindness, devoid of fear.
What's that like, you might ask and wonder?
You'll never find out; but you've got your plunder!

So, from the depths of a past once grim,
My pack howl together, love’s victory hymn.
A family of truth, a new chapter’s start,
Your shadow long shriveled, just like your heart.
wcb Dec 2018
i
--
Gasping for breath,
hair matted against your face.
Light cascading down,
sweat slicking our embrace.

     You've never looked as beautiful,
     as you did that hot day.
     You planned to break it off,
     but joined with me in every way.

Our love is raw,
our shared lust intense and true.
Our bond is flawless,
I want no more than you

     You've been my living fantasy,
     my best and only friend.
     Life can get so complicated,
     but we don't have to end.

ii
--
I want to _____ you.

see, feel, smell, part, lick, bite, rub;
join, f*ck, love, ride, mount, seed, pump;
fill, taste, eat, dream, own, rock, watch;
bend, know, wet, kiss, pin, split, touch.
For my star.
wcb Dec 2018
When I struggled for air,
     You’d pull me in close, our breathing would synch.
When I struggled for calm,
     You’d speak in warm tones, my mind would find peace.
When I struggled to swallow,
    You’d sense on your own, and make me slow down.
When I struggled with pain,
    You’d cure with your touch, lean in and stroke hair.
When I struggled with myself,
    You’d give me your love; I felt valued, worth.
When I struggled …
    You’d make me feel whole.
   You’d elevate.
  You’d comfort
You would.
You.
For my star.
wcb Dec 2018
We are long silken threads of light,
twisting through boundless time and space,
We dance, spin, cavort to form lace;
weaving neither loose nor too tight.

Each crossed path a way to be right,
a newfound chance to find our grace.
A bond of color, shadows, light!
True coupled, or even with space.

When we can’t knit? An awful plight.
But this quest I’ll always embrace;
toward the next moment, off I’ll race!
I’m your shepherd; a true black knight.
Through pitched darkness, you are my light.
For my star.
wcb Dec 2018
Soft dark silky braid
A feather loosed and floated down
From Raven in flight
For my star.
wcb Jan 2019
Dreams and promises.

Ephemeral vignettes of potential futures
Goals we choose to chase or let fade.

We stumble through life doing the best we can
The best of our breed serve more than themselves
And it's the honest pursuit of shared goals that give greatest hope.

Some months ago I found myself torn from orbit around A-star
I let go of everything; even her.
I closed my eyes and became a sleeper
drifting through darkness, space, and time.

The clarion call was my own voice
It shattered my sleep with a ferocious roar
Demanding that I fight: "Start with yourself."
And so I did. I thought, I spoke, I wrote. I fought.
For me. And also for her. She just didn't know it. Maybe I didn't either.

And so it was a surprise when she called after months,
Inviting me into her home, her space, her arms.
We talked. We shared. We held. We kissed.
It was only strange in how good and right it felt: Home.

We embraced desire, trading memories of the past for experiences in the present.
We were both very much the same, and yet so very different.
One day turned into two, two into three.

The future can have promise, but it isn't promised to us.
We have to choose it, we have to be its champions.

This is my purpose and place.
wcb Jan 2019
I can still close my eyes and feel her neck,
even though I haven't touched her in ages.
Lower to her shoulders.
Higher into her hair line.
Translucent down adding to the sensation
of already soft warm skin.

I can still close my eyes and see her lips,
even though I haven't kissed her in ages.
Supple and light pink.
Slightly parted and sweet.
Innocent and oblivious to the longing
of my rapidly beating heart.

I can still close my eyes and smell her hair,
even though I haven't stroked it in ages.
Framing her perfect face.
Dark with subtle rich tones.
Fragrant from fine products and the combination
of her intoxicating natural scent.

I can still close my eyes and wrap around her,
even though we are no longer together.
Breathing synchronized.
Facing into each other.
Blissful and at peace in the warm embrace
of our ancient and eternal bond.

I love to close my eyes.
For my star.
wcb Jul 2019
In my heart, and my mind
I'm flush against your back
with my arm around your waist
hand pulled up against your chest

Face nuzzled in the crook
of your graceful neck and shoulder
the scent of your hair and skin
with every single breath

Paradise. Nirvana.
Shangri-La. Elysium.
Heaven. Idyll, Eden.

Home.
Unintentional poetry from a text
Meh
wcb Feb 2019
Meh
MEH
It’s what we say when we...
Don’t care.
Aren’t excited.

RAH
It’s what we say when we...
Celebrate.
Cheer.

These initials are important,
they represent people.
One, a dangerous disassociative abuser.
The other, a beautiful mind and soul.

The past is MEH, our future is not.
But the future will see RAH transform.
Perhaps to RAK, though my dream is RAB.
To M; you just don’t matter. Meh.
wcb Dec 2018
Star-crossed lovers are doomed to fail,
but fail at what, I ask?
To be star-crossed requires love,
and that's a gift; no task.

A moment spent in your embrace,
worth years of being lost.
I'll take our moments without pause,
even if those stars are crossed.

For to cross we must intersect,
and that meant meeting you.
Without that union I'd be a shell,
False life, no being true.

So in the end I want more time,
no matter what that means.
Your kisses, touch, and very scent;
demanded by my genes.
For my star.
wcb Dec 2018
This hasn’t been a love story,
it’s been a story about love.
One bigger than us, more above
and beyond; take inventory!

You are My Star, my life’s quarry!
Raven dark, not white like a dove;
Pull like a black hole, no story!
Home is your gravity; our love.

Life can be cruel, viscious, gory.
Trials faced? Ours are unheard of!
But through we still fit like a glove.
We laugh, cry, embrace the glory
of US! Little bird; OUR story.
For my star.
wcb Dec 2018
Forty seven years of being lost
ended in a single moment
when I first laid eyes on you.
Found my purpose and place;
a true sense of self.
Now you must find
your own truth,
your path,
Home.
For my star.
wcb Jan 2019
Lush neatly manicured lawns
Fence pickets in white, ornate light posts in bronze
Luxury cars and such perfect houses
Mask the evil that rouses

Behind the Stepford smiles
Flow rivers of fear and pain
Horrors, ****, and violence
In their suburban domain

“In marriage there’s no such thing as ****!”
“I make the money, if I want *** I’ll take it!”
“I’ll end your life if you try to escape.”
“I’ll cut off your money, you’ll never make it.”
“I’ve explained to your family you’re crazy as hell.”
“You have no friends left, no one to tell.”
“It’s always your fault you make me hit you.”
“Now tell the **** doctor you just tripped on a shoe.”
“Get yourself tested I brought home the clap.”
“You’re lucky to have me, I’m the real catch.”
“Keep eyeballing me, you’ll get a fresh slap.”
“Stop crying your eyes out, it’s just a rough patch.”
“I love you so much, why can’t you see?”
“This creature is something you force me to be!”
“NOW STOP YOUR WHINING AND MAKE A NEW DRINK!”
“ELSE IT’S YOUR HEAD, NOT MY GLASS, THAT SHATTERS THE SINK!”
“YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN, AND YOU WON’T GET AWAY.”
“YOUR NIGHTMARE IS HERE, AND HE’S GOING TO STAY.”
...
“Lock the door? I’ll kick it in!”
“Fight back? I call that a win.”
“The struggle is what turns me on!”

The terror carries through to next dawn.

Behind the Stepford smiles
Flow rivers of fear and pain
Horrors, ****, and violence
In their suburban domain

Sprinklers water the grasses
The sobering monsters cover their *****
They put on a grin and dress in fine suits
Greet peers with **** salutes

Off to work he goes to make cash
The kids trudge glumly off to school
The night before? Just a bad dream
She’s buying clothes, spending's her fuel.

Lush neatly manicured lawns
Fence pickets in white, ornate light posts in bronze
Luxury cars and such perfect houses
Mask the evil that rouses
I've been wrestling with the experience of the most important person in my adult life, whose husband played the role of the honorable and even pious successful business owner with the Bentley and all the bling. Always was (is) able to convince people he's this great guy, when he was simply a wealthy man who felt like that meant he could do anything he wanted to anyone, without consequence. He has a long history of domestic violence and did things to her that cut me to my soul (though my piece speaks in general terms and is not necessarily literal in whole). This clumsy 'poem' just tries to approach the ugly underbelly of suburbia -- where everything is perfect on the outside, and catastrophically ****** behind closed doors.

Not something I enjoyed writing, not particularly comfortable posting it, and it didn't serve to substantially advance my voice in this medium -- but it needed to be purged.
wcb Dec 2018
My cousin wrote of Crowded Streets;
The “struggling tides of life” within.
He spoke of death, life’s toils, feats;
The loss of youth, malaise, chagrin.

I write of love and light, our tale;
But pain and darkness is not spared.
Against the good they simply pale;
Our value grand -- so rightly paired.

We came in broken, lost our way;
Succumbed to pressures so severe.
But don’t lose sight of how we’d lay;
So close, sweet, and intimate; dear.

Fires forge the strongest steel;
Without adversity -- no gain.
The trials we faced, still we feel;
Love for each other, fresh as rain.

No pressure here, I am your friend;
That fierce loyalty has no price.
My trust in you will never bend;
I need your voice and calm advice.

I guess I hope for a fresh start;
Without any burdens or weight.
As far as body, mind, and heart;
They are free, yours, assigned no fate.

We ARE intimate, that’s not prose;
Not “were”, I thought I’d give you space.
I miss your eyes, lips, crinkled nose;
We are those threads, we make that lace.

It’s our story, it’s worth a write;
And so much has yet to un-fold.
Tales of us should be given flight;
We should, if I may be so bold.

But hear me well, I’ll mince no word;
I miss you more than you can know.
You are my star, my little bird;
It’s not mere talk, I want to show.

So think about a little leap;
Not unhealthy, wrong, or bad.
Just all our good, no mission creep;
Elevate happy -- dilute sad.

Revenge is sweet, for pain it’s grease;
Breaks frozen feelings loose and free.
But so is closeness, love and peace;
And we can have that, you and me.
For my star.

— The End —