Her master towers over her with his hefty might.
His eyes pierce through the shadows.
Commanding and bold, he startles her.
However, she capitulates to his aura.

She succumbs to his will, a willing slave.
Confined by his power, she cannot behave.
His words are tender, his touch like a feather,
she pines for his control, her soul in his hand.

In the dungeon of rapture, they explore their appetite.
Her master, like a bat, hovers over the dim light.
Sweeps her with his wings to a waltz of submission.
And takes her to the ride of darkness and delight.

A coating of fear decorates her face.
He surprises her with acts that leave her afraid.
She is hesitant to continue her master’s calling.
But her body is dissimilar, peachy, and pulsating.

Her master takes her on a trip of ****** events.
Where she gasps with fright, moans with pain,
and pleasures herself to the sound of the rain.
He takes what he wants; she surrenders it all.

He puts her in her place with words of degradation.
Then showers her with warmth and affection.
Her master kisses her, just like aftercare.
In each other’s arms they find solace in times of despair.

Dripping down the insides of her thighs;
*******, on her are all the eyes.
The need to be tamed
she cannot control,
it's sick but the pleasure
screams: "just once more".
She craves it with every cell
but from her looks you could never tell.
Rough hands grabbing her tight,
controlling her as if she was a puppet,
mouth wide open gasping for air,
he keeps on slapping her until she says she loves it.
Black leather and cold chains,
purple and blue lights blow her brain.
It's all about being raw.
She's forced up off her knees
pulled hard by the hair,
as she keeps on saying please.
Ropes tied too tight leave their marks,
hot wet tongue licks all the bruised parts.
So many things to use,
but she's still the favorite toy.
Pointing fingers, narrow minds
but she's only there to enjoy.
No love, no sadness.
Just moans and madness.
You may think she needs affection,
the aftercare is cute,
but she has another type of hunger;
from this world to become a recruit.
Whatever it takes to feel good,
she's willing to do anything she's asked to.

It’s the one thing that will grab a guy’s attention
The thing that will really move a girl into perfection
Once they open their mouths there it is
Why they got it done is none of my biz
But you know it’s something I can’t really ignore
The barbell sitting on your tongue I have to adore
That’s one move to prove that you’re ****
Makes you a hot girl even if you’re hefty
It’s like a magic wand that makes girls pretty
Just seeing the jewlery makes me feel thrilling
To parents it shocks the living the daylight out of them
I find it as a strong love shock so I’m one of those men
I even watch videos on YouTube on how they get it done
Many girls on their bulletins are saying how they want one
When it comes to tongue piercing I’m obsessed
So I’m just writing this poem so I can confess
My feelings about this trend I’m trying to express
Once I see a female with one they stay stuck in my mind
So I feel that those are the type of girls that I want to find


Men shouldn’t get one because it makes them look gross
I think it’s the girls who should be getting those the most
It’s the white swirls on that tiny barbell hypnotizes me
Those kind of girls are the ones I hope to have by me
Seeing girls with one is like Cupid shooting his arrow at my heart
Then my emotions will go intensely crazy, don’t know where to start
Many say having that piercing will make you a ****
They think those girls will look for *** instead of love
Regardless the reason it’s the piercing that draws me closer
Those are the girls they almost every guy wants to hope for
In my definition the word ‘attractive’ is what they are known for
Once you stick it out and I can’t take my eyes off it
It’s an obsession you don’t hear me talk about often
Guys are lucky to have girlfriends like that
They’re lucky men and that’s a strong fact
Kissing them and feeling the barbell on their tongue
That feeling must be so enjoyable and it sounds fun
And that’s why I consider those men the lucky ones


I don’t want to get one because of the pain
And it’s not a look that I want to maintain
Girls with one are the ones I want to go after
Hoping that they don’t think of me as a disater
I don’t go around saying this because I don’t want to sound strange
And I don’t want my strong obsession to make girls think I’m insane
Just because I feel this way dosen’t mean I’m gonna hunt you down
All I’m just doing is stating my feelings, it’s not as creepy as it sounds
I would do anything just to gain your attention
But being polite and respectful is my intentions
I’m not one of those guys who stick their fingers in your mouth
I know those things will really disgust you and make you shout
I can control myself and not let my emotions get the best of me
The last thing I want to do is do something to make you leave
As girls who have tongue piercings are the ones I want to please
They’re like clams with pearls inside their mouths
Gets me so impressed all I can say to that is ‘wow’


Some of these are girls are hard to find
As I have them burning inside my mind
It makes your hair and ****** appearance don’t matter
It’s the piecring on the tounge that makes me flattered
It’s not physically touching me but I grow weak from it
So f I would of asked you out then I would of done it
Long tongue, short tongue , that dosen’t really matter to me
As long as the barbell is through the tongue is all I need to see
I don’t know why I’m obsessed with tongue rings that’s just how I am
When I was younger I use to not care about it and didn’t give a ****
One day I saw a girl that I like with one and became crazed ever since
I see a girl with one I imedately think that’s the one I want to be with
It’s like eye candy and I’m very highly addicted
But that don’t mean I’m trying to sound sadistic
It amazes me how you eat with that thing on
And not have your tongue ring piece fling off
The more you have the better you look
You’ll look better than you actually should


The aftercare must be intense for you
Whatever care actually depends for you
Getting the silver barbell on your tongue must be hurtful
Keeping your mouth open that long seems like a workful
And it’s not just that, afterwards I hear you crunch on ice
To make the swelling go down so your tongue feel nice
Then I hear about you using Listerine to remove the bacteria
It’s must be total stress on you and for that I really hear ya
Though the piercing will dazzle me I also give you credit for putting up with that
So many steps to follow just to prevent infection and accepting this painful fact
I’m not forcing any girl to go get a tounge ring
Just do what you want and do what you think
I’m just telling you the story of my obsession
And to use this poem to express my confession
I don’t think the obsession I have will ever go away
Looks like the feelings that I have are here to stay

My child bearing years, you see
But nothing can replace the intoxication
Of a new pair of lips and limbs when the clock strikes midnight
Forever at my lips, bidding adieu to sobriety
I can follow and fall into the arms of a new sincerity
Unburdened by half-baked promises, letters of stress and civil warfare
I can be your wife, I can be your life
But only for a night

Forever at my lips bidding adieu,
This is a dance I love to do
My nature proclaims a livelihood of attraction
A constant hunger and desire for justification
My dance I continue
I waver into the night
A flimsy frolic in the daze of whiskey
Lips and limbs anew
A dance of forgiven sins and Spanish limbs
A dance of forgiven sins and German fingertips
A dance of forty five minutes and millions of pelvic on my hips
This is my dance, not his.

The partners come and go
But the dance is me.
I am the ringmaster
My name belongs to me.
Forever alight with song and dance

A chance of meeting a new thrill
The intoxication of one night spill
A class of movies and sin
A dance that begs for gin.


This is my dance, my dance is me
You can join, but not in sobriety.

A cuddle or two is nice aftercare,
But the idea of true love is a story hard to bear
A few limbs, millions of genitals makes my fix
For my dance is me, my dance is I
Burning ablaze in the wake of the night
I am me, you are not
My dance is me, My dance is I

Forever forever engraved in my soul
A dance of my own
A life made for me, made for the rich lining that resides in my whole.

I am whole. I am me. I am the dance with or without sobriety.
Come hither, jealousy.

I hear nothing,
I see everything,
and yet,
all I feel is static.

Nothing,
absolutely nothing, makes sense
or has the same meaning
from one moment to another.

Fear,
Anger,
Mock,
is around every corner it seems.

Confusion,
Greif,
Ache,
eventually numbness sets in
and the blood begins to seep.

People fill the room and
soon your eyes feel heavy.
The voices stop,
all but one.
The declaration has been made.
The label has been made.
Sedative begins to set and your body goes still.

The feeling still there,
every molecule every atom.
every slice and every stitch.

The label placed,
and perfectly stitched,
Aftercare is key love, it must not rip.

The nurse stagers over and hands you a mirror.
The restraints released.
Perfectly, permanently placed,
The label you will forever see.

Or maybe I'm a dancer
Just for you and me
My pirouette
Might well be poisonous
But I'm sure you'll
Fall for it anyways

I'm an art to your
Lovely bones and parasols
When I strike water
I really strike blood
And my self harm tattletale
Will never be enough

My chemical heart
Is just one nick I'll sew
Into your patchwork of scars
Don't worry about the
Aftercare
I heal wrong no matter the day

i always thought i had it all figured out
and there wasn't anything to think about
all i wanted was my skin to be branded
and liked it a little rough-handed
but craved the aftercare
where
you'd caress the marks that you painted,
my pale pure skin with your tongue you tainted,
and then you'd hold me in your arms
help my heart beat calm
so that i could sleep in silence
with my mind at peace
keeping away all the ugly violence
so our bliss-bubble won't be breached
yet today i have learnt that i can't have both
if you'll be tender you won't be able to control
this wild blood that makes me do stuff
that is even more harmful than "poison puff"

either you will be sweet and sound
or you'll be an anti-hero with hounds
either your love will make me feel blessed
or with me you'll be obstinately obsessed
either you will want to be gentle with me
or you would help me see
that i am not sick for harbouring these desires
even though burnt, it's ohkay to long for fire

and this is what i don't get
because if i let
you in with no out
all i will do is panic
making our budding romance tragic
because i am a living breathing paradox
built of a spectacular range of blocks
wanting to be tamed
yet afraid
if i set this passion free
i will drown in lustful seas
but if i chain it in
i will be faking
so what should i do i don't know
be like water that goes with the flow
or be the storm i was born to be
scarring yet surreal in all its serenity?

I never understood people who ran,
the burn in the lungs,
ache in the thighs,
pain and restless aftercare,

the people left behind,
the solemn faces that never cease,
the memories you can't escape.

I run into the night,
a wild blessed thing.