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Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With a rush of burning desires,
I turn your world, as I touch you, into a ball of fire,

With our sweat that falls (in this room of degrees creeping higher and higher)
I slip off your bra, and proceed to strip you from the rest of your attire,

As with a look in your eyes that's electric as a live wire,
The grip of my hands around the curves of your frame become tighter and tighter,

And there, with thuds of the baseboard knocking at the wall, here, I treat this moment ever so dire,

Where I pull you in close--in this room full of yearning fire,

And make love to you--
With my body full of rushing--burning desires
Nova Oct 2018
Varje dag jag går på buss tio
och jag ser någon som ser ut som dig

Och det passar bra.
Sally S Ali Jan 25
Like a bra
She held my heart
in the right place
Covering my soul from the firey eyes

Bitter than *****
Sweeter than wine
With a kiss
she heals
And heals and heals

I had something like a house
But it was just a place to live in
I had a language
But it didn't express my urges
I had a lot of poeple
But not truly humans
Now; Now i have you
And you are the home
To scream by our words
over the top of my chest

World of moustaches no more exists
Underneath her smile i hid my joys
To release the madness
Control the clouds
and let the rain flow
Splitting the reality of us
Away from
Their horrible happeiness

Sally S. Ali / England
Dr. Sally S. Ali MD
Amanda Jean Jul 2018
How long does it take to get over lost loves. Books and sunshine can’t fuel my bonfires celebrating life is but a dream my parties are so outdated I don’t know how my soul speaks anymore. Run on sentences because my brain can’t comprehend grammar anymore it’s just word ***** and love ticks trying to spit out energy at any awkward chance it gets. Will writing be the same I plead my soul to gain its old memories through feel and spontaneity. I learn to love again is it really all through creating I pick my scabs my nicknames by what I seem are better days before an abusive heartbreak I never truly know what is at stake when I put my heart into beings never truly seeing what they’re meaning behind their lies and deceiving I always see the best despite the feelings. My visions always so temporary never thinking what I could truly accomplish is what I want to do. What I want to be. How loud I might scream or how tired I might be but how high I climb over all simple yet complicated atrocities. I just want my soul to gleam I just want to feel so clean I just want to get over all these things that are holding me. I keep hitching thoughts of friends loving me trying to abide by social standards taught to keep me balanced keep me holy.
Keep thinking about human trolls just stagnant in feeling during purrs of not speaking just vibrations under being. Vibes push out dark thoughts yet still no words come out I feel invisible isolated by myself reality is loneliness
Jenay Jarvis Nov 2012
I want to sink my teeth,
Into your lobes-
I want you now,
I want you close,
Inappropriate behavior,
In the back of a car,
You’re just not here and
Four hours is too far,

Thoughts of scenarios;
My leather jacket,
Thigh highs and,
Your skin; like magnets,
Your teeth and,
Clinging to cabinets,
Your tongue- THAT jaw,
Come closer,
I’ll un-cage my bra-
And arch my spine,
If you restrain my wrists,
Scraping my nails across your back,
And yours sinking into my hips,
You can watch,
The back of my head pull up from,
Generic damask sheets,
100 thread count and I don’t give a ****-
I won’t be discreet.

You can rip into my hair,
And I’ll rip into your pores,
With uneven nails,
Leaning on all fours,
We can always take it slow,
Yes, we can keep it sweet,
I just want you so badly,
I can’t contain the heat.
ryn Jan 2015
             *the *future is...a tornado of uncertain-
          ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is
me•such power and speed, can ne-
ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-  
den debris•like clockwork, it will        
   make contact•by the second, bra-        
cing for next impact•the past is...      
  yet another•wild winds that echo      
     my mistakes as reminder•this twis-         
      ter within...tearing with no remo-    
           rse•destroying confident strong-
             holds, breaking feebly boarded
           doors•can't ease the
    en from the inside•won't stop beating heart had
        died•the present is...only this  
   frail little body•fighting huge 
battles that come incessantly  
  •fending off the future, con-        
    taining the past•not know-            
ing how long.......this disas-       
ter would last•but I'm still      
   here.....still holding integ-         
   rity......•still fighting this       
war waged in history's        
folly•will i be settl-
ed? will the winds
ever abate?•
will i ever
      come to    
will i
L B Nov 2016
with her china-white skin
down to lace bra and *******—

“Have you ever heard this?” she asks

… sets the album, drops the needle
in the groove
We wait till bass fills in the room
sending time and silence empty-handed
down a hallway

Susan lights a joint
settles on the bed
ample legs begging apart
She ***** in deeply
impounding clouds  
Head thrown back
Thick glossy hair—
loses gravity
Eyes half-closed, shadow-heavy
clear and blue like piano
The walls are muted trumpet
stutter-hush of cymbal and the snare
Crackling over scratches

We are barely there

Susan exhales
a swirl of fog to a frail moon
Only her sultry voice still holds me tethered

“Have you ever heard anything— like this?”

Miles flows 
around me
On the floor of Susan’s room
lying clothed and drunk
with chords and wonder

I never hear him coming

Miles takes his time
Clearly, Susan was not the ****** here.  The year was 1969; Lowell State College dormitory in Massachusetts.  I was 19, a music major and on my way to becoming "radical revolutionary" and a poet. The album, I think, was Kinda Blue with Miles Davis and John Coltrane et al
Gemma May 2018
Take your shoes off ,
Unclip you bra ,
Hang your hopes on a washing line,
And spend some time inside , absorbed by the harsh reality of not feeling comfortable about who you are.
They can't judge behind closed doors ,
And invitations are the only way of entrance ,
The fake smile can be consumed by your quiet habitation,
You can return to your own version of normal.
agnes Jul 15
lighting is dim but defined with a flash
her fingers reach to put her bra into place
she bought it a week ago and it’s all lined with lace
she fluffs up her hair with a strand behind her ear
she remembers when this moment brought her fear

it’s 11:00pm and the bra will stay on until 11:05pm
her makeup is long wear and it starts to hurt her eyes
but she knows her eyeliner will paralyze glamorize and hypnotize
obligation or free will?

her body sheds the last piece of clothing
she knows now’s the time to start moaning
they won’t notice how forced it feels
she’s already got them head over heels
their mind stops working or at least that’s what they say
what’s more important than their lust?
project your important with every ******

she’s a product of their imagination
she’s an object
or at least that’s what they make it seem
she’s to do whatever they dream

***** talk, slow blinking and a kiss
soft caresses or hard slaps
soon they’ll line her arms with straps
tied tied tied
or free free free
what’s control and where does it end?
was this ever a way to mend?

I’m *** *** *** *** ***
is my worth portrayed in the pleasure?
is there any other way to measure?
how should I view myself
if all other people see is themself

support but never consider
all the ways in which you hurt her
don’t come around and don’t touch me there
don’t rip apart my underwear

I still touch and I still come around
I’m your personal little playground
<en-nan nin nin en-nan et dan>
It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,
             COME ON, COME ON, COME ON!
It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,
...a pen, a floor, A CAGE,
             It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,
ON THE FLOOR, down you go-oo,
            It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,

It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,

Caught in, caught in, caught-up again,
            It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,

It's the Bra-Hi STOMP!

           It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,

ON THE FLOOR, down you go-oo,
            It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,
<musical break>
It's the Bra-Hi STOMP,
             COME ON, COME ON, COME ON!

It's the Bra-Hi STOMP!

<fade out>
A slow lead-in to a longer heavy metal jam. 'Bra' southern slang for brother so, "Brother I Stomp."
Donall Dempsey Oct 2018

Your most prized dress
must confess

that it


the swell of your breast

the rise & fall of your breathing.

Clothes have no memory.

It is Winter now and your summer
frock has totally forgot

the sheer sunny shockingness of being
(underneath it all)    

absolutely knickerless.

Kisses like butterflies
alight high (high)    
on your inner thigh (thigh) !

Clothes have no memory.

Your bra
unhooked & unhinged

cannot really recall

the thrill of it all

as my hands caress

create your *******.

Clothes have no memory.

Clothes have no memory
...but I do.
Kara Jean Jul 2016
The freshes essence let's off a scent
A fragrance bold and fearless
Dumb and numb
Hopes higher then an egos design
Hold your breath
Here they come
A backpack harnessed snuggly, full of broken dreams and low self esteem
A misplaced jaw and no bra
They may look unfit
Don't be mistaken
The world is for the taking
Carter Ginter Sep 2017
My body sinks smoothly
Into the curves of your mattress
As I wait for you to crawl in beside me
Among the clouds we shift repeatedly
Apparently soft beds don’t promote cuddling

Netflix plays in the background
Some standup comedy for background noise
But we are not here to chill

The lining of your bra creeps from beneath your crop top
Black lace against your pale skin
And my fingertips can’t help but graze the intricate designs
And trace the edges along your soft skin

While I always think you’re ****
I am not trying to ****** you
I simply cannot get over
How someone can be so perfect
And how so many ****** humans
Could look at you
and touch you
Hear you
and connect with you
Yet somehow couldn’t love you.

But I’m also glad they didn’t
Because I could do this forever.
Maia Vasconez Apr 2016
You shouldn't feel butterflies in your stomach when you see him. When you love  a person you should find them calming.
The way I see you with your hair up and no make up and no bra but your shirts still on... I would call that comfort in each other.
The intimate conversations we had made you feel more than any boys hands.
The unsuspecting pictures and my boring little lectures and us bonding over laundry was a sure sign of connection and there was never any tension.
And the truth is I hate to see you worrying about some dumb kid who doesn't care about you as much or more than I do but,

I'm not saying be in love with me,
I'm saying I hold your heart
the way he holds your hand.
Purely platonic, this **** is ironic.
Anecandu Sep 2014
My nine inch heels aren't easy and sure not cheap
I have high “values” and **** my morals sound steep
Don’t fall off your chair cause I’m stepping while you try to “creep”.

I’m the lyrics in every soulful hit song,
My ma was a wonder bra and my older sister a thong,
I'm the one you slow down for when “stringing” you along.

I’m a must for the ***** bedroom uniform,
I come out when it rains but baby never in a storm,
Ranked way above the jeweled purse in the closet so warm,

I prefer carpeted limo’s lined Suede Blue.
You don’t like me? honey that’s why your just a shoe,
I’m not in this for walking or “tips”, get a clue.

So next time you see me lemmie say this so you know
Be grateful I’m only ******* with you, not stepping on your toe
Just lean in, see my polish as I glow.
L B Aug 2016
I lay on the ground below
the curved hips of the hills at sunset
The aperture of my eyes, my ***, my eyes
and the narrow escape
of mind from body

I am ten again
and they’re calling me falsey
“*******, No bra!”
Shoving them into the lockers
of Holy Name’s pool
My eyes? Brown. My hair? Brown
My body? Invisible, lean and “Leave me alone!
or I’ll punch your lights out!”

Meanwhile, Mom is mortified
but not cause I’m banned from the stupid pool

All I want— is to run bare to the waist
Ride my bike, maniacal  
Be a bird
Swipe ice from the milk truck
Marvel over maggots in garbage
Catch toads, caterpillars, pollywogs in jars

Later, sell lemonade— get rich!
…and pretend…pretend…
till the litany of our names, hollered from the porch
till the street lights come on….

“This is for something you haven’t got yet”
says the matron of the fitting room
Bones in a bathing suit?
What I haven’t got?
or they haven’t got?
will never get—
in their worlds of curtained cubicles
Cause of death:
Strangulation by measuring tape!

In my plaid two-piece
sunburned shoulders, wind-wild hair
By sweat and the afternoon’s imaginings
I built a fortress of sand and stones
to endure forever….

But she— shook the blanket
at the tide’s full reach
Peppered the air with an epoch
Clouds darkening
the wind-torqued sea

Finding my flip-flops, we—
    trudged off…
    into the changing… changing
Evelyn Genao Feb 2018
… close!
They’re close!
What do I do?
CloserI’m not ready.
CloserI don’t want this.
CloserHelp me.
CloserI’m too late.  
They’re here.

Rotten teeth,
Greasy hair,
Alcohol breath with a mix of tobacco,
Eyes that abandoned all emotion.

Why did I think I could push down my fear?
How naive I was!
I see it’s fist clenched and come up.
I’m knocked to the floor.
My cheek red and swollen.
They do it again,
And again,
And again,
And again.

I scream and plead for them to stop, but they don’t.
They never do.
Next, is feet.
Then repeat.

A ruby liquid is enveloping around me.
Getting bigger,
And bigger,
And bigger.
No matter what I do or how hard I push or how loud I scream, they continue harder.
It’s laughing… at my pain.
A laugh that will forever haunt me.

My vision… blurry.
My head pulsating.
I know… I’m going to die.
If the cause for all this would have been different then would I have had a better life?

They suddenly stopped and I thought it was over.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I felt a hand, their hand slide up my shirt.
Going to my bra and squeezing the outside. They licked their lips as if they enjoyed the look of horror swells up in my eyes.  
Wrapping the very same hand around my back and clips off my bra.
Pushing up both my bra and shirt, they flicked my ******, twisting it between their fingers.
I don’t want this!
I push harder, I don’t want to die like this.
Screaming louder, hoping someone can hear my cries for help, my throat burning for some water.

They gave a hard slap to my face, adding onto the countless bruises, as a warning to shut up and then continued to feel me up.
Crimson drops flow freely down my bruised face and into the puddle beneath me.
My bones growing tired and the strength I had, in the beginning, is slowly depleting, but I can’t give up.

I can see it.
I can see her, walking out with pure wings strapped to her,
looking even more heavenly than the last time I saw her.

I look up and into the eyes of the person on top of me.
I can feel their other hand reaching for my pants.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice raspy.
They stop and meet my eyes, confused.
“Even if you hate me. I know you think it’s my fault she died
and punish me for it. I let you because I thought so too.”
Their face is cloudy. My vision growing blacker.

“Since she died, I’ve put up with this abuse and I knew she wouldn’t have wanted me to hate you, even as you do this.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I took her from you.
You will always hate me for what I have done.
I don’t blame you if you do.
I can’t go back and fix what has been done.
You don’t know how much I wish it was me instead.”

The eyes that had been dead, since her, softened.
“I need you to do something for me. For us.
We need you to live like we never entered your life.
We both want you to be happy, but if you keep holding onto the past,
you never will. Do not mourn over us.”
My vision is going in and out and the light is getting brighter.  

“I love you, daddy.”
I feel water falling on my face.
He’s crying. He cares.
My heart starts to slow down and skin grows cold.

I run to her, to mom, and jump into her awaiting arms.
Tears of joy.
I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to take over.
The last of my words cascaded out of my stained lips,
Goodbye, daddy.”
It might not be the best but I hope you like it and tell me what you think!!!
JS CARIE Nov 2018
You're afraid if you come near me I'll hurt you
But you've been hurt by me before
and always asked for more
Every urge you felt,
when you got those passionate aches
We found a place to strip our wares
And feed each other what we had coming
lustful dynamic by way of accommodate
Like a 90s pop song you'd say my name
While accenting your "Oh's"
and trailing off the "****"
These were signed, squealed, and notoriously us
From the first time I took off your shirt
Slid your bra down over your shoulder
My vision of your ******* came through in X-ray dirt
Taking away breath in a choking hurt
And that's why you won't come near me
Mentally comparing the moans injected into you sweetly and severely, that made you climb up on top of me with retaliating energy
The groans of settled lethargy
So I send to you,
Vibrations of heated vitality,
to knock at my door and I'll meet you on the stairs
If you were hoping to see the bedroom
You'll find all the sliding wetness you seek on those stairs
As I once again remove your wares,
You open wide after I spin you around, upside
Continuously kissing your pink
in the moon shone glare
*** lust passion pain love
Eléa Jan 14
can' - but help it,
have to
words string from fingerprints

did you die when you got the gist, i tried
not to, tied my chin to the world
spinning synonyms beside me

shadowed its corners, filled the
of its borders

making a story that
someone would find me,
unearth me

and not to not to ;  
each one of you
to disorder, to fragment me

so sleep softly, if it's only that, child,
if that's all it is, my darling,

the earth sliding gently underneath,
it's forward age
it's backward commotion,

forget the eternal movement that
could wriggle under fingertips

and - Take, no questioning,
this coke, this coke,
this bra, this ring,

take everything
sembling some
form of desire

just not to know,
it's me you really want;

that i really do exist
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