"frenching" poems
Chainsmoking menthols,
creating clouds on parade.
Living in the dark;
frenching hurt that I've made.
There's a sadness in my comfort
and a comfort in my sadness.
*** fame, ******* down
commercialized madness.
I don't dream of pornstars
as much as I dream of clothes.
Videogames to escape it all,
carbon monoxide through my nose.
Too good for this and that;
entitlement at an all-time high.
Doing television to help me live,
or maybe to help me die.
Spotify for the masses
beating in my brain.
Youtube and pornhub
to make me feel the same
as the lost I compare to myself
and the celebs I want to be.
I want to be on edge, rich, validated;
I want to live in a fractured harmony.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
feel
I’ve forgotten how to
My nerves are on fire but I
don’t understand what it means
Do something
Give me
Give me anything
I need a way out
I need to feel
Pixels are shouting at me and
I think I’m going deaf
please help
I know who did what and when
I know you
I know your ups and downs and dreams and fears
I am the ultimate ******
And so are you
And I don’t know how to
I don’t know how to stop
Make it stop
Give me anything
Something real
Something physical
Give me pain
needles and knives and back-alley mistakes
Rough brickwork bruising a back
Is it my back? I
can’t tell anymore give me more
Cement scraping skin from fat from muscle from bone
What does marrow taste like?
Google it
Blood pouring from eyes but
we’ve seen worse in CoD
Give me more
Rip the bones from the flesh through a hole in the skin
Taste the inside of a tongue
Let’s practice Frenching
I can’t tell anymore is this pain or
is it pleasure is it hunger or satiation
Spellcheck
Is this death or is it euphoria
Why should I care
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
*Miles away. Cities and
oceans parting us. But
i still feel your touch. The
way your lips lock over
mine the shivers you send
down my spine. The
pounding of your heart
against my chest. The
brush of your hands on
my naked flesh.
Miles away
but that's ok. At least we
get to text and call everyday.
Till the days pass quick and
I see you again. Till the
ocean waves part and I
walk through to reach you.
And when I do I'll be kissing
you.
Frenching every inch
of your body. Caressing
your skin. Waiting to start
new stories and memories
waiting to paint the bedroom
walls with different shades
of gentle love and sin* ~
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 2:49 AM UTC