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Laura Nov 13
I dipped my feet
In fire
I felt the burn
Reach up
I felt it rattle
My knees
Turn down
To bow
To fear
I feel
The rain
Above
I tell myself
I’ll drown
I lay my head low
I wait
The heal
Rain on fire
Feeding
Desire
Feeling growth
I feel the rain
And reach
I reach for air
And wait
Till the fire
Becomes smoke
Till the rain
Hits hard enough
Until I am
awoke
I shed this heavy
Cloak
Dangling around me
under me
I climb
Above hell
I climb until I see
That I am not
Afraid
I climb until I see
That I am free
I reach for me

I reach for me
James Floss May 3
I love to love it; it is
A privilege to praise
When they go beyond,
It’s a gift to say it

When the work is mediocre
Less they know they can
I rue my job; psychic indigestion
Tired, I herby retire
Bella Jul 2018
Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness
where my eyes can see
but it's like my head is just pitch black
and I almost wish I couldn't see anything,
like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while

sometimes I get stuck in this space
and I feel like my tears and my thoughts
are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat
blocking my airway
suffocating me from the inside

maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment
that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat

maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings
that don't take over my mind
crawl through my head like little worms
eating away at my brain
my thoughts
my skin

have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again
felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind
Shiver through your body
like it was a demon you let in through a memory-
through a word

maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed
because I wasn't strong enough
my depression fills me to the brim
fills my head and my chest
my arms and my fingers
I can feel it moving through my body
I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me
every last vein, nerve, *****, and tissue
how can you expect me to have the energy to fight
how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone
to open my mouth
how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel
I feel so worthless
in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything
it's taking everything but my skin
and it disgusts me

can you imagine the feeling,
having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately
It felt like you needed to be cleansed
like you needed a shower
take that feeling
now imagine it being under your skin
imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you
imagine all you wanted to do was to
GET
IT
OFF
and you can't
no matter how hard you try
you can't scrape it off
you can't claw It off

imagine you're scared of spiders
now imagine you're covered in spiders
and someone's holding down your arms
so you can't get them off
imagine them walking on your skin
in your mouth
crawling on your open eyes
in your ears
you're cringing at your own skin
You can feel them going down your throat
Their disgusting tickle in the pit of your stomach
in every crevice of your body
their tunneling under your skin
and you can't get them off
what are you supposed to do
but cry
My best friend's mom who doesn't believe in depression asked why I never told her I was depressed...
Mohamed Nasir Jul 2018
To ill is scourge hazard of modern man;
The way of life which tricked you leaves you weak.
Before it pounced, prevent you must! You can,
Your visions blur, your limbs cut, your times bleak.
Avoid refined sweetness pure, you should know,
The more you love to eat the more you crave;
Your sweet tongue urged pleasures deals a cruel blow,
The more you indulge, closer be your grave.
This sickness gradual erosion of health,
Like shrinking pools merciless sun would drain.
A diabetic's woe: no amount of wealth,
Could stop the vines that binds and break the chain.
Without remedy and won't heal for good,
So sweat, please monitor intake of food.
Alexys Marie May 13
burning your candle at both ends will never
lead a blind man through the dark
so be weary, sweet girl
when you see the fire in his eyes
for the flames will fade away
and once they do
he will be just as lost
as you are dead

and it will make no difference.
you are only a fire hazard.
When words fail and the song dies in your soul
The soft cushion weighs heavy, threadbare, when
Dust invites the attic attack to the last memory stroll
A fretful protest march accompanying the wood grained heart

You noticed the space in short supply, with tight breath, the
Expert bargaining skills have begun, bypassing
The weak hearts, those that are still journeying
Their healing held up in tight palms of moistoned skin

And the slide into another day begins, dreadfully
With arched pain barriers drumming their morning
Beat. Occupational hazard was on the rampage
Cracking skull caps from their skinned residence

I shone a light into the acute grey tone of those
Hearts, those whose shapes lost conviction as the light
Shot arrowed tongues from the deaf interiors of wise men
Out on the town of feeble failings, they held nothing as their companion
syncopation Oct 2018
That’s what it felt like when we lost you
To the complex maze that became your truth.
A self-enlightened mind
Impermeable to light, to touch, to time.
An inner sanctum of make-believe so outrageous, so utterly unbelievable
Made of illogical truths only you sought achievable.

What led you to this I can only hazard a guess
Was it divorce, insecurity, a lifetime feeling like you were less.
Why has it come out now when time has already been the test
Was it the lack of medication, a lack of rest.

My brother you are wounded.
Your mind an open sore.
Rest your weary soul.
Torture and pain no more.
Amanda Oct 2018
I placed myself second
Because I placed you first
Unconditional lasting love for you
My beautiful perpetual curse

I do not like who I was with you
Used to believe each lie you told
Put up with **** near anything
Long as I had your hand to hold

Staying by your side through Heaven and Hell
We struggled with your disease
Swear my pain was even greater than your own
Begged you to stop down on my knees

I asked how I could help you up
Held me and said "I don't know"
Promised with my hand on your chest
To never give up or let go

I won't let you know how deep it cut
To break the vow I strained to keep
How could I stay and watch us **** ourselves?
When I woke up and you were still asleep?

Sacrificed so much for you
Begging one time you'd realize
I CHOSE to walk behind your shapeless shadow
Knowing destination was destined to be my demise

I wish I had not of trusted you
The one that was not supposed to harm
Wish I could trap naivete
Before you held my foolish dreams in your arms

I long for joy I felt when we were new
As our corpses deteriorate
I am now aware of the hazard loving is
Your heart hangs on my happiness, a very heavy weight
I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss.
Pagan Paul Aug 2017
.
i.
The morning mist dissipated
as the ships keel ploughed a furrow
through the Great Green of the Aegean,
leaving far behind the magick isle.
Vigilantos stood at the prow,
marvelling at the accompanying dolphins,
curious and playful,
schooling with purpose to the ocean.
Ahead, waiting, a grand tour.
Of Sumer, Abyssinia and desert lands,
to glean hidden knowledge,
regain the mysteries of the ancients,
read the Necronomicon and old scripts
from a time when power crackled,
and the storms of the gods
belittled the existence of mankind.

ii.
The twilight Moon peeps
from behind the brazen grey cloud.
And she weaves hap-hazard
through the crushes of the crowd.
A high-born daughter of the desert,
a vision of beauty from the sand.
With silks and satin and perfume
richly obtained from foreign lands.
Through the colourful bazaar she threads
with occasional glances thrown at stalls,
priestess jewels sparkle in the night,
its her Name the sirocco calls.

iii.
Cobalt blue water, an illusion of light
where the sun slides through the meniscus,
and the harbour of Tyre was alive.
The bustling of boats around ships at anchor,
snatching glimpses of a turquoise sky
and the quay throbbing with the pulse of music.
It would be another 3 thousand years
before Rome was even a trading post on the Tiber,
let alone an empire conquering the east,
or building hippodromes and columned avenues.
Vigilantos drank in the atmosphere,
his magicians instincts bristling, noting all.
Meandering through the narrow streets,
loosely following direction, getting lost.
Seeking his retinue and camels, ready to start,
across the desert to Ninevah on the Tigris.
To speak to tribes, pray with the priests of Ur.
To find the secrets of mysteries, and treasure,
reaping the knowledge of the Old Gods awe,
amongst the shifting dunes of history.

iv.
Vivid colours of silks and dyes
adorn the tents of cloth and stick.
The summer sun beats down lazy,
heat as oppressive as mist is thick.
Her charms and delights are hidden,
with misery and pain, the last week spent.
The dark, the quiet, the inane chatter,
deep within the women's red tent.
Free from the curse, her moon-cycle complete,
she wanders with mood sombre and slow.
A powerful man from a western place
will arrive at the camp as the sun sinks low.
He had seen her in the main bazaar
and decided to stake his claim.
Whilst confined away, behind her back,
her father had bartered for riches and fame.

v.
His travels around those beautiful lands
had yielded books of law and scripts.
He had heard the oral traditions of elders
and gazed in wonder at the Moon's eclipse.
Then he had seen the greatest treasure
wending her way through crowded markets.
With tact and guile he discovered her Name,
and vowed to grace her father's carpets.

The desert folk live a simple life
but far from simple are they.
Sharp of tongue and quick of wit,
erudite in a most unusual way.
The father was the elected leader,
King of the tribe that he now led.
Vigilantos had bargained hard
to purchase the girl for his marital bed.

vi.
The sun sinks, falling from the sky in the eve.
Spectacular reds and orange colliding with the dunes.
The azure twilight sky lit and sprinkled with stars,
and the tribal camp fills with laughter and tunes.

vii
He walked with purpose toward the campfire,
his features silhouetted by flickering light.
The sudden hush of the assembled camp
echoed strange, deep into the desert night.
His eyes beheld her most beautiful form,
half in the shadow, half in the light.
For her families benefit he had traded,
agreed bargains, and come to claim his right.

“Princess of the desert, Daughter of the sand,
step forward gently and take me by the hand.
For my island home calls out loud to me,
so come, let us away across the sea”.

Head bowed in fake submission
she boldly makes her cold admission.

“I am a Woman of the free,
these sands are my home to me.
With all good grace; I could not face
life on an island in the sea”.

viii.
Black and red, darkness and rage
descend upon his fevered mind.
Humiliated, spurned by a maiden fair,
and pride will not be left behind.

“A curse. A curse. 'pon thy beautiful head,
prowl and creep as do the undead.
Evil deeds are now thy course,
henceforth our contract is now divorced”.

But something made Vigilantos start,
a pang of something from his dead heart.
With such feelings he could not contend,
so a caveat, for the curse to amend.

“Thy deeds and crimes maybe invested
'pon mortals only who invest the same such evil
'pon their fellow mortals”.

ix.
Leaving far behind the desert
he turns his face to the sky.
The ships keel ploughs a furrow
as the evening mist draws nigh.

And now she prowls the dark night,
her Name lost in the sands of time.
Seeking out the mortal sinners and
punishing their evil with her crimes.

... and thus it begins ...
Judderwitch.


© Pagan Paul (08/08/17)
.
Prequel to The Judderwitch poem (posted in April).
I fear this may create more questions than it answers.

My Judderwitch poems are now in a collection :)
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/28451/judderwitch/
PPx
.
Meteo Aug 2016
For want of fire, farther furnaces sphered in alignment
I lit your cigarette and you ignited my tongue
we crossed our wires
and poured roads a cacophony of car horns
and shifting street lamps heading East
hazard lights left on as the planet rushed by
now everything is muted in your wake

I keep pulling at my flesh
this body was always a puppet for you
Husks for which I was growing in to
and decorated with threads and falsehoods  
            
weekends built to be empty            
with all my windows and doors closed
not even an echo escapes out of politeness
for a memory I am just learning to keep sacred

There were fireworks once
they celebrated the mortal distance of
hours and kilometres between us
now fotographs grow heavy
collecting shadows made less so
with each new attempt at levity

Don't save me from these days
I may lose count of the steps leading back to you
lose count of the clouds for which we mortgage tomorrow

Somedays move heavier everyday

I miss you

Hands so small as if broken by this world
found me in places I didn't know were home

As we raised our peluches
and layed down in foreign parking lots
everything is a facsimile of what could've been but we try everyday

Trees lengthen around us as we wait
for our chance to plant our lips among them
to add garden to the changing green

I reach for you over seas
I dream of you recklessly
I breathe mutual atmosphere
I don't want to leave this place if you won't take me

In neighbourhoods as safe as routines
I hide and wait for the sky to be paved
as these streets overflow with thunderstorm warnings
with cigarettes that won't quit
with good coffee and new uses for paper

My tongue waits for your toes behind the last unlocked door
As you practice the full nothing away from me

My tongue waits for your toes behind a last unlocked door
For Mei.

We shared sleeping bags upon mountains
Brushed our teeth to aurora borealis
In constant search of crown land
to rest our heads
Like food,
dreams are rationed

children slip through holes
in buzzing fences

like bees

the light touches
of a fly

unconcerned by chemical spills

and broken hazard
signs
Erica Girone Nov 2018
Detrimental
Opposite of gentle
Hazard to my health
Mainly my mental

Adrenaline to my veins
My favorite source of pain
Beyond insane
You stay on my brain

And even though you’re who’s toxic
I’ll take the blame
Cause only a fool
Would want your last name
Tawana Nov 2018
You should have seen the way she was looking at me she was asking for it with her big smile and the way she flipped her hair, she looked at me and smiled so, obviously, she was asking for it. This is the type of language I have heard from men who have tried to justify their actions.
As though that would change our reactions to how they treat women during interactions.
You know I can’t walk out at night without a chaperone
And when I am at a party I cannot leave my drink alone
I mean my anxiety has become full-blown.
In 2012 1.5 million women in Australia had experienced ****** assault
And with this great number how can you say that it was probably her fault.
You should know that that’s her body not your it’s not for you to look at or to pry
Again, it's hers, not yours so why do I need to clarify?
What kind of messed up world do we live in where a woman speaking her truth has become sin?
She asked for you to stop as you groped her, but you were not listening
The very thought of this in my mind is honestly nothing but sickening.
We sit quietly and watch these men become the leaders of our countries and the judges in our courts. Who because of our ignorance, have still not been caught.
And yet despite the numerous reports, people refuse to connect the dots.
You mean to tell me that these women were asking for it as they lay unconscious as their offender whispered that it would be their little secret.
When will people stop and listen to the cries of these women, they are everywhere and whether you like it or not they do not exist.
They are in the bathrooms of a bar, they are in the same streets we walk every day they are even in the offices we work.
In places which we least expect them to be are where these predators lurk.
Since I was young I always dreamt of what it would be like to be grown
And now in 2018, I realized what it means to be a woman.
It means being safe should be my main concern
It means if a man puts his hands on you he should be pardoned
Because with the way you were dressed clearly, he had no option
And no matter what you say they will only listen to his version
Because your woman and you do not know what you’re talking about not even a fraction.
I have heard the stories of women who gave their confessions, and no one believed them
Because who are they to try and tarnish the names of these men
So, tell me when just when will a woman’s voice will be heard again
But It’s the strength and fortitude of women like Nadia Murad who make me believe
That because of the horrors that have occurred we don’t all have to grieve
There is truly is a chance for us to make some good after all the negative
There is hope for us victim or not we could all write a new narrative
One where a girl wearing a skirt would not be reason enough for her to be hurt
One where a girl can sit at night on public transport with comfort
One where a girl walking home alone would not be a hazard
A world where when it comes to things like these, we have a higher standard
A world where the idea of a man putting his hands on a woman would be absurd.
When people ask us why we fight there are many answers that are in the right.
We fight for the women who lost their lives in the arms of these monsters
We fight for the women who were forced to become young mothers
We fight for the woman who have been silenced and put into corners.
These are the people we fight for whether she’s Muslim, Christian, Sikh or any other religion
Whether she’s Black, White, Mexican or Asian or another ethnicity, we will use our words and story’s as ammunition.
For we know that there is a war to be won
And We will no longer run
So, when we speak of the monsters still standing there will be none,
And for the women who are afraid to speak his name, just know you’re not alone.
Xaela San Dec 2018
Rain frozen in time
Is a nature's beauty
A phenomenon
Called freezing rain
It glazes the lonely road
Decorated the dead trees
And sparkles in the slightest light
Equivalently
Its beauty is a mask
Masking the hazard it hids
Freezing anything in its path
Even birds can't escape its wrath
Through the slightest touch
Leads you to a graceful death
Freezing rain is the name given to rain precipitation maintained at temperatures below freezing by the ambient air mass that causes freezing on contact with surfaces. Unlike sleet, a mixture of rain and snow, ice pellets, or hail, freezing rain is made entirely of liquid droplets. The raindrops become supercooled while passing through a sub-freezing layer of air hundreds of meters above the ground, and then freeze upon impact with any surface they encounter, including the ground, trees, electrical wires, aircraft, and automobiles. The resulting ice, called glaze ice, can accumulate to a thickness of several centimeters and cover all exposed surfaces. The METAR code for freezing rain is FZRA.

Source: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freezing_rain
I was a fool for thinking
I could keep you unharmed

as if I had the power to heal
wounds of the heart -

etched as deeply as
names on a grave

pretending I could erase sorrow
as if I were the tide upon the sand

I was too proud to admit to you
that to love me was no different
than loving any other girl

I come with my own hazard warning

nights where you’ll wake up in
a cold sweat,
lying next to the nightmare you just had

but if you’re ready
I will hold you hand, earnestly
and help you navigate the
messed up map of me

this ****** up map of love
Simon Soane Mar 28
I’d hazard a guess there aren’t many folk who don’t know the tales of Harry, Hermione and Ron
and how with a cast of a multitude of friends they defeated Voldemort with aplomb,
rightly these heroic adventures are held in the highest regard,
and will be told forever by musicians, singers and bards,
these stories will be remembered, people will talk of those courageous and brave
and how they turned the evil tide of The Dark Lord with everything they gave,
how they dispelled the magic of horror with the strength of the Gryffindor lion,
but less well known than this wonder is the fable of Tayrn and her Ryan.
R and T arrived to Hogwarts  10  years after He Who Can Not Be Named was vanquished in the great struggle,
Tayrn was pure wizard born whereas Ryan was pure muggle,
both took to wizarding school easily and did well in all their classes,
of course Tayrn was a hit with the lads and Ryan a swoon with the lasses,
but it didn’t matter they gave all folk in their year at Hogwarts an involuntary love shudder
because ace Tayrn and Ryan only had eyes for each other!
Their wonderful sweet love was easy and went without a hitch,
spent Saturdays gazing at each other when they should have been watching Quidditch,
hand in hand they skipped around The Forbidden Forest, their romance knowing no rift,
saying hello to a friendly centur or a flying hippogriff,
they galloped around Diagon Alley, their souls full of cheer,
or sat relaxed and tranquil in The Leaky Cauldron sipping butter beer.
T and R were ace at spells, Tayrn’s best was with a wand swish creating healing
and Ryan’s wonderful arty prowess was painting The Sistine Chapel on any ceiling;
yes they were each other’s equal in the way they weaved the magic from above
and this is one of the reasons they were very much in love.
One night T and R were going on one of their romantic walks
and decided to have a jaunt to a wonderful clearing just near Hogwarts,
they sauntered through the darkening evening with a song on their lips,
swaggered along the green with the music of love on their hips,
as they got to the secluded clearing they were anticipating with glee each other’s hold
but then all of a sudden they started feeling very cold.
They both noticed that the summer grass was covered in a blanket of frost,
the trees were looking pale, freezing, withdrawn and lost,
the air was filled with frigidity and held the hints of scare,
the flowers were wilting with chilled terror, bloom given way to despair,
as Tayrn and Ryan wondered what was the cause of such floral bad health
just a few yards away  the answer revealed itself;
over a hill came a hooded figure that immediately brought fright to the fore
as Tayrn and Ryan paid attention in Defence Against The Dark Arts they instantly recognised it as a dementor,
but they noticed something different about this one, it was nearly trebled in size,
and had a deeper blackness where should have been it’s eyes.
Being skilled at magic they knew what they had to do to avoid any harm
so both quickly fired off their best Patronus Charm,
but these spells had no effect, the huge dementor merely shrugged them off
and they could have sworn beneath it’s hood it let out a derisive scoff.
The enormous dementor hovered over Tayrn and Ryan and from its mouth emerged a hiss,
as it prepared to give the two lovers their final goodbye kiss,
but as it stooped over them with it’s awful deathly hue
T and R looked into each other’s eyes and figured out what they were going to do;
they remembered in one class learning about the bravest man Hogwarts had ever knew
and how he was able to hoodwink The Dark Lord with a love strong, solid and true,
how Snape drew on his love of Lilly to ride through any storm,
even on his darkest night it was what kept him warm,
so Tayrn and Ryan pushed their wands together and thought of beautiful Severus
and how they both too shared the romantic love buzz,
and channelling the wonder of that special feeling thus
they both pointed their wands in unison and screamed Expelliarmus!
Emitted from the tip of each wand was the half of a love heart projected from each soul
that both came together to create the fantastic whole,
in the shine of such love the vast dementor instantly recoiled,
knowing that it’s draining wish was in no doubt foiled,
it writhed around and in the glare of joy did it’s nefarious purpose erode,
every bleak and blank about it started to corrode,
the dementor slowly ebbed away until all of it did go
and in it’s place was left a striking brown young doe,
it bowed it’s head to Tayrn and Ryan and then it flew into the trees,
gliding with majesty on the sweet night breeze.
Awed by what had happened Ryan and Tayrn turned and started to walk back to the dorm,
aware of what occurred was special and not the norm,
but then they stopped in their tracks and at the same time both did say,
“oh my beautiful love, I know  I’m going to marry you someday!”
moon child Oct 2018
She's red.
Fiery and exciting
Strong and demanding respect
Deserving it as well.

She changes things
She steals the moment
She steals the show

Every time
She smiles.
She's red.
And God
Do I love that color.

She was blue for a while
Sweet and kind and concerned.

Calming music.
Calming color.
They put it up in hospitals and bedrooms.
Baby boy blue.
It's supposed to settle you
Help you breathe.

When she was blue,
Breathing wasn't a chore.
When she was blue
Living was second nature.
She had me at Blue.

She was gray once.
That confusing in between the lines type of gray
Where it might be a nice day.

Foggy
Overcast
Sweet

The sun trying to get through.
She was covering the Sun
But still I knew
Below
That she was Gray.

The first time she changed color

She was orange.

The space between
Different shades.
Not quite sure
What to expect.
Not quite sure
How she should be treated.

So she became Orange.

It wasn't beautiful.
It wasn't soft.
It was unforgiving.

Not a sunset.
Not a
Ripe
Bright
Fruit.
A hazard jacket.
                            BEWARE OF HUNTERS
She was prey.
And the orange
Was consuming her.

When she was
Orange.

She started out so plain.
Unsure of what colors
Might consume her.

Unsure of how they might
Change her.

She may be a rainbow now,
But,
While she seems beautiful,
All the colors others see,
She knows

That the bits of

Orange
              and
Gray
              and
Blue
          ­    and
Red

Mean so much
More.

My heart
Has seen a painter's brush
Or two.

She's changed shades
To suit her suitors.

But the heart
Is Red.

And now that I'm in charge

Red it will remain.
MaiMai Mar 14
Ember burning bright.
Born for destruction or born for light?

Can someone hate their creation?  Because I'm afraid of my own design. What I may be capable of. In a snap of a finger my ember can spark destroying what is and was.
"You're loved" is what you say but you can't get it though your brain. I'm impotent to my strength.

You don't want to look at me, don't look at me. You run away from me, run away from me. I am aware of my aftermath toxic smoke so it's ok. I know I cause nothing but heartache.

Beware because I've been known to ruin lives.
Use caution, I might spark into a raging fire
Be careful if you make me to happy I might burn you alive. Causing spiritual death leaving people shattered, trying to pick pieces, due to me forgetting about my hazard.

The word gentle isn't in my mental vocabulary. My touch, my touch is dangerous. It's warm at first, almost comforting in the beginning but the longer you hold me the more I singe. I don't want to cause you sanity. So stay away, far from my ember, in fear your oxygen will ignite this fire.

Embers burning bright
Born for destruction or born for light?
look at me in the eye then you decide.
Tessa Marie Nov 13
I watched you looking for me.
From high above I witness that line between your brow deepen as you chewed the corner of your mouth
then made an effort not to.
You looked to our friend and confirmed that I had said I was on my way to you.
He told you to calm down, squeezed your shoulder and you nod and pull your length of dark hair into a half hazard bun,
And, then you scowled at your phone.
chirp
I lift mine from my pocket, smile and reply
"Look up."

You look left then right and your honey hued eyes land on me.
Decades of smiles had formed lines and I got all 4 rows.

We play our games. Do what old friends do.

Hours pass and we are finally alone.
In an oblong shaped room a thin door separates us from them.
We can hear them trying not to be loud or put on that they are listening.
Will they wont they? They want to know.
We always do.

Is there any chance in hell? You ask.
I hesitate because yes is the death of me and no is impossible.

For once you keep your distance allowing me to breathe.
My body aching I can already taste you.

I tell you what it takes and inquire about what you need.
We sit on the tile floor against opposing walls.

I watch your long fingers fidget with a loose thread on your pant leg.
I close the distance and sit legs on either side of you.

It's the anniversary of the first time you touched me and I wanted to be touched again.
It had been so long.
No other touch mattered.
No one sees the real me like you do.

See me now, I say.
Your eyes heat and fixate on my lips and finally you touch me.
large hands cup and pull me unto your lap.

I wait for the crushing of eager mouths, the violance in our passion for each other.
Instead I get your head in my *******, you breathe me in and then out.
Your arms around me tight now.
My tears are hot.
You hold me there.

I press my lips gently against your scalp and remove the elastic band from your length of hair.
I then realize it's the band you stole from me years ago.
The one I see on your wrist often when you're in the world I dont fit in.
Then, my stomach turns. I dont fit because you dont make the room.

You're now freeing me of my jacket. Your lips gently pressing onto every inch of newly exposed skin.
The snow is building up on the ornate window behind us.
I'm not at all concerned.

Your teeth skim over flesh and bone, a threat of pleasure too intense for a thin door to conceal.
I lay back, now exposed, unto cold tile with gold leaves.
The corner of your mouth raises as you remove my boots and then kick out of your worn converse.
I watch you pull your shirt off over your head and then praised the gods I dont believe in for your abs.
On your knees now you roll leggings down. I lift and you moan at the sight you so love.

You cross my ankles and hold them in the air.
You watch my face as your thumb caresses swollen folds.
I whimper as the torture continues.

No!
I want to touch you!
I want to be close!
It's been too long since I have tasted that mouth.
I protest.

Shh.
You end all argument as your fingers slide in.
Slow at first and then hard as I arch up off the tile.
There's nothing to hold onto and no way to muffle my screams but to bite my own fist.
Wave after violent wave hits me and I go under and am content to drown with you.

I love you so much
I whisper between gasps for air.
Waiting and hungry to hear it back.

You leave me heaving on the cold floor and I can barely see as I attempt to come back to the surface.
And then that mouth.
A rip tide takes me back under.

I can reach your hair now. There is so much of it.

I sing your name over and over as I arch and moan.
When my body goes limp your mouth moves upward kissing hip bone, stomach, breast and then neck.
You are above me now, I can feel your eagerness against my wet thigh.

I love you, too.
The words fall off wide lips before they take up mine.
You  enter.
Sweet and gently you stroke my hair and cup my face.
We drink from each other as you move in me.
My hands stroke the angles of you the strong back and up and over to cup your muscled little ***
and press you deeper in me as I raise my hips to take in more.
The air rushes out of your lungs as I grip you tight inside and beg you to ***.
You reply by nipping my bottom lip and dive faster and harder into me.

I’m no longer sure where your hair and mine begins, We have so much of it and I try to pull yours back so that I can see your eyes.
Its as if you can never quite believe the intensity of us.  Years and years and we remain on fire.
You  let out a moan and then silence it as much as you could by biting my shoulder.
I dont think it worked, Hon.
A good 40 people heard you *** inside me.

We lay there on this cold pretty tile now.
Aftershocks of pleasure course through my body and I long to reach other and touch you but cant collect myself.

What have we done to ourselves, again?
Will it be different?
It has to be.
I cant say goodbye again.
Adult themed
Lily Flower Jan 26
The beauty of life is
hazard turns to malaise
and sorrow takes over momentary joy
A subtle means to destory
eternity with all its glory
and **** the hero in a happy story
oh life is far beyond a tragedy
Easy to mourn over with a requiem
or a second chance for sins to be redeemed
It is the omnipresent alchemy
through faint traces of a raindrop
and a rose that wasn't meant to die
life is tasteless truth inside a sweet lie
That mother death will take us with her
Her promising voice never bitter
Oh but not all that shines is glitter
Life is you, tied in a loop of rusty chains
Forever willing to bear the optional pain.
Chinny Maia May 12
Insomnia and midnight cravings..
Village people abeg free me oh!!
I’m fighting this..

not going to look in the kitchen or freezer
I can hear my microwave calling me..
may have to check if i have turned off the lights..

Did i close the refrigerator door?
Did i leave the dishwasher or washing machine running
Jamison Bell Mar 4
I’ve already banged you, held and restrained you, caressed every ******* scar
Here in the swamp I curse and I stomp, even the rats know who you are
Are you really surprised when they look in your eyes and tell you I love you
What do ya want, you silly dumb ****, do you not see the things you do
You’re a reminder, a lost soul finder, a bodhisattva of evil intention
I’d hazard to guess, the one they call Mess, is a soul without retention
But what’d I know, another ****** soul, another victim of apathy
Perhaps one day late into May, you’ll stop and think of me
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