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londin Oct 2013
Between the the drivers seat and passenger door handle
floats a millennium of shy sentences.
Indigo Morrison Aug 2018
Try and swim
Focus on not drowning

Catch and release this breath
Take in your hands
Try not to bite too ******* that bottom lip
Hold on to your hands
Grip something to match your grip on me
Your rhythm in these legs
Your body in these legs
Your face between these legs

Try and swim
Focus on not drowning

Inside but everywhere
You are inside but everywhere
I can only be here
Keep up here
Slow down here
Lie down here

Try and swim
Focus on not drowning

You are touching me
You keep coming up to look at me
You keep coming back to watch yourself indulge in me

Try and swim
Focus on not drowning

I can’t stop this crash
I don’t want to stop this crash
I’m trying to hold on
But you keep pushing through for me to let go
And we let go
High at the same time ...
I can swim now
I’ve let go and I’m not drowning....
September Roses Aug 2018
Crystal eyes
Fall for them
Over
And over
Drown in oceans stormy grey
Lost in forests emerald green
To get drunk inside and snap away to sober

An underground lake cavern
A still, silver cargo ship docked by the bay
A sky and sea beyond the windows
2pm on a shady spring day



Catching a glint in the light
I find my teeth biting my thumb
Oh god how I love to gaze
In what you use to gaze apon
Targeted towards absolutely anyone with eyes, at all
CK Baker Feb 2017
There were dividing lines
between springfield
and mariners gate
soft, subtle lines
that spoke of origin
and code
and biting union

it was all
the reason
for being;
alive and living
dead or dying
deep in a pack
of pint size resistors
hell bent on the
marsh crow
and cannabis tower
jumping the rush
with *** shots
and anchors
and tribunals

camouflage creepers
and transient floaters
marked rebellion at the gates
(skullduggery and taunt
high on their favor list)
jack straws and flat paddles
for the evening charade
beakers and flailing hands
from the foot washing baptist
(the pleasant street conservatives with their
own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”)

there's a
lingering effect
to this sentiment
(evident in the pump house stride)
the river winds
blow gently
into the night
as the huddling packers
and **** backs
chase the evening hours

it’s a bitter sweet
end of an era;
those traction bars
hood scoops
and nickel bags
will always
be the rage
Hg Jun 2018
i fear my spider hands
and the words
they spin to webs

they twist and twine
injecting rhymes
in every word that’s said

they type and type
and type biting venom
from in my head

i stay awake all night
writing till sunrise
stabs my bed

i feel arachnophobic
of these fangs
that can’t be fed

but everytime you grip them
you squash them
till their dead

with you holding my hands
I drop my pens and
my distress

with you holding my hands
my spider eyes can
get some rest
©Hg
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****!
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to ******* your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Rabbit Dec 2018
It's getting hard to bite my tongue,
Feeling like grabbing you by the hand and leading you out of the office on a run.

Just a little alone time
To sit face to face
Play some footsies for a minute
Talk and wander off into space.

****, I miss you when your not here
Even though I can't talk in person I feel content just knowing that you're near.

Don't get me started on how perfect that you really are, the old feelings are coming back of wanting to run away from you far.

Cuz the desire to touch that skin and kiss you on your neck is growing so strong,
while you're on your walk want to pull you in my room, kick out Isaiah, and make out all night long.

Rub some Coconut oil in my palm,
and massage that **** body till it almost feels wrong.

Then stop and quickly put it in reverse, we're just getting to know each other I don't want no curse.

You're the type of woman that's worth the wait, show you my heart, take my time, get to know you, and put it in the hands of fate.

For the record I have never came this hard or cared for another with my heart so full,
with you it's different, unstoppable, it's like a planetary gravitational pull.

Please know that you are gorgeous all that and a bag of chips,
intelligent, spiritual, funny, beautiful, strong, and **** with a voluptuous body and hips.

I feel you Melissa even when your not around.
Queen so perfect, come a little closer, stand next to me, and put on this crown.
Dedicated to the Queen of my heart...
MJL Mar 9
I’m here
No party
Who’s ****?
I'm not afraid
Everything’s primitive
New baby’s old
Suckling eternity
Carrying his mother
Teaching her father
A universe of historic shame
Threatening
The expanse of senseless
Intolerance
Grasping ignorance by the pores
Infant nails dig in and hold
Evolutions face of madness
Bloodshot
Biding a soiled fate
Biting for more
Sanity
Growing until -ism’s explode
Tears that crave change
Go forward
Moon Star Traveler
Be you
Be here with me
Recede against hate
Be one with the human race
Be one with the universe
Each generation brings us a step forward to ending intolerance.
lauren Nov 2016
i have slept restlessly for  nights now, reliving the events that have conjured within the past 72 hours. i think to myself, how would anyone want to bring another into this world knowing the pain they will endure? yes. you will feel pain, indescribable, chest filling, body aching pain from your head to your toes. i wont try to paint a perfect picture of this world and let you down. hating me every moment for the things i never said. you will be beaten down by others, torn away from the connection you thought you had. you will sit in a coffee shop alone, biting your lip with anxiety, and he will call you in the dead of night pleading for you to keep him company once more. you will miss the way you looked at the world, with innocence and purity, reliving every moment of suffering and rewriting its pages. you will invest your heart in people, things that will only let you down. but sweet child this suffering that you feel will be soon over. it is how you overcome these situations of awkward confrontation and scandalous betrayal. because one day a bee will buzz past you and you will jump up and down like a child again, tugging on the end of your own dress, smiling. you will laugh once again because the perpetual love you feel from those who surround you with positive energy will fill the gaping hole of disappointment that the world has so willingly handed you. like i said, i will not paint a perfect picture for you, because every artist has their flaws, but they cover them oh so well. and you should never have to carry that kind of burden.

love always,
me
Morgan Nov 2016
your gusto

ripping through my veins

'merican flags
trump supporters
platinum beer
fireworks flaring
fires visible atop seedy peeled-paint rvs

technicolor lights amped up on edgy recreational vehicles

4000 (BRIGHT BLUE), 6000 (BRIGHT GREEN), 750XR ON-AND-ON-AND

covered in dirt and filth

eating meat

sizzled atop  
flames atop
charcoal bricks and lighter fluid

complimented by krafts brand
mac n cheese

i am apart of it
you know
your triumph burns sticky, out of my skin

guiltily i came into being

birthed inside charcoal sediments and lighter fluid

scratching, writhing, biting

at the mercy
of a hyper-paint / subtle-death encrusted
reality
Kay Reed Feb 2014
he didn't **** me with kindness;
he killed me with blue eyes that
sometimes looked green and
lips that he had a bad habit of biting.

he never took a walk on the wild side;
he took a walk down the street to  
my front door and sat on my porch
all night, even though we weren't talking.

he never broke any of his bones as a kid;
he broke every vertebrae in his mother's back instead,
intentionally stepping on every crack
in the sidewalk outside his elementary school

he never bought me flowers;
instead he called me a wildflower, ripped me from my roots
and put me in a vase for all to see, sustaining my life long enough
just to watch me wither and die.
Natalie Aug 2018
I feel keenly the quiet of many dead suns
Growing inside of me,
A biting blackness
Leaching out towards my fingertips.
It reverberates back, again
And again, swelling in my chest
Until I feel I could burst from the abundance
Of nothingness.

How horrible this could be!
Such quiet, inward rage...
The mind consumes itself
And turns to feverish delirium,
Enshrouding me in a blanket
Of bitter, tacky sweat.

In this empty, blazoned state,
I swallow worlds of men
Like syrups from a bottle.
O, the ravenous binge!

I devour it all to a hush.
Alysia Marie Dec 2018
I’m sick
And I’m tired
I’m eating my words
As they dance on my tongue
Making me squirm as they turn
Oh I’m biting
I’m chewing
Simply swallowing my pride
For I can’t say how I feel
No matter how hard I’ve tried
For they pin me
They ***** me
Puncturing my mind
As I sit here and silence
Muted like a mime
I can’t say it
I fear it
The version that you’ll see
If I emit all of these feelings
My caged memories
For they haunt me
They taunt me
Like a stained porcelain tub
You can’t rid it of residue
No matter how hard you scrub
That’s my mind
They’re my eyes
Tinted a light shade of blue
As eroded as these beaches
I’m drowning from you
Your fingers
They’ve grabbed me
Now bruising my soul
How can one escape from your grasp-
I just long to feel whole
For it was physical
Now emotional
Unsure which one is worse
See these flashbacks you’ve gifted me
Were your most vicious curse


                               Alysia Marie 2018 ©
Perhaps one day these flashbacks will subside
Perhaps one day it’ll all end.
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