Paris May 2014
When you have b.p.d you can't really control your emotions.
Everything hits you like a wave.
And you can't take it all in because
It's exactly like being hit by a wave.
You panic, and try to grab hold of
The ground to keep you from going
Deeper but your grip loosen and the next thing you know you're neck deep.
Borderline personality disorder (b.p.d)
Jessica Altieri Mar 2015
My neck is a nest
The warmth in it an ever present creature that
Oscillates and breeds and collects
And attracts creatures that do not

My neck is a nest
That doesn't just need to nurture but
To be nurtured and
Touched and kissed and electrified
In order to keep that warmth

My neck is a nest
That rests on an unsteady beating branch
And hangs under a filament-ridden sky
Neither of which can ever agree
But to disagree on whether
Niceness or smoothness or alcohol or hidden agendas
Should have anything to do with
How the warmth is kept

My neck is a nest
Full of hatchlings that have already
Dropped and soared
Dropped and stopped
Dropped and swooped at the last second
Where they are now
I have only an inkling.

My neck is a nest
That wishes to blend with the
Twigs and leaves and eggshells
That become it and
Be humbly content with who
It wants to attract and collect and warm.
Exploration of my own sexuality and what I need versus what I want.
Ophelia Jul 2014
Let my love bleed
let me leave my lipstick on your neck
Let me wrap my hands around your neck
Now it’s your turn, boy

Let my love die
Pull my hair and bite my neck
Hit me and whisper you love me
Stay with me till the morning

And I will take my clothes off
And my body is on fire
And your neck kisses are so earthly
Yet so heavenly
Because it’s irespressible passion

Let my love burn
Let me hit your head with a gun
Let me smack your neck
Now it’s your turn, boy

Let my love drown
Swallow my howling tears
And drown me in your sadness ocean
Drown me
Drown me

And I will take my clothes off
And my body is on fire
And your neck kisses are so earthly
Yet so heavenly
Because it’s irespressible passion

And I will take my clothes off
And my body is on fire
And your neck kisses are so earthly
Yet so heavenly
Because it’s irespressible passion
2014-05-26
Emma Mar 2016
Your body,
on my body.
I felt your breath,
lightly and deeply,
against my neck.
You're lips,
touched my neck.
Satisfaction.
Leal Knowone Apr 2015
Her neck calls to me, bringing out my primal state
Lies Cut Short Jun 2014
I like the way
Your breath feels
On my neck

I wish that I
Could feel it
Again
Dark Holes Jun 2014
Fuzzy ol' neck beard
Tips his jaunty fedora
Self proclaimed nice guy
Alys Jun 2010
A throat,
creamy
white;


A chain,
golden,
bright;


A scarf,
soft
and light;


A hand,
hot
and
tight.
Allen Wilbert Dec 2013
Smelly Red Neck

I knew a man who was a smelly red neck,
this poor fellow was always having a wreck.
Two whole teeth and can barely read,
drinks his urine and smokes his weed.
Blind in one eye, can't see out the other,
his sister is also his mother.
It's a family filled with incest,
born and raised in the southern mid-west.
Twelve toes and eight fingers,
grandma raped by a gang of niggers.
He was mostly white, with a big black penis,
Daisy Duke calls him Enos.
Hair is red, balls are blue,
when it comes to words, he knows a few.
Can't drive a car, can't ride a bike,
strongly believes in the Third Reich.
Dumber than an old door knob,
never had a god damn job.
The laughing stock of the town,
underwear is always sticky brown.
Has one ear and three nipples,
even gets picked on by the cripples.
Ten feet tall, with an IQ of twenty,
gets hard when he sees a penny.
Family was killed in a tractor accident,
there he sat naked in an over-sized cabinet.
Being molested by every perverted predator,
started to crack from all the pressure.
Grabs a gun and goes out shooting,
it's the devils work and he was recruiting.
Police came and shot him dead,
saying damn he had a big black head.
Craig Dotti Jun 2010
I see you from across the room.
It’s impossible not to,
I have to look through you,
To see out the window
You don’t look as good tonight,
As his words might lead us to believe.
Good enough for him.
Good enough to write about.

He salivates over you,
Like I might over a steak.
Like you are over the poem he reads.

I may have lost you over this one.
Because he is tender.
Because he wrote one good poem.
Because he might kiss the same way he fucks.
Fuck the same way he would,

Put his thinly pursed lips,
On the curve of your neck.
But he wouldn’t appreciate your neck.
Like
I do.

He might not be spitty
Chapped from years of rejection.
I stare at your neck
I’m sorry if I stare.
I need to see out the window,
During this three hour class,
To know the world is still there.

He doesn’t know your feet.
And if he did fuck you,
With your socks on or off.
He never felt the abrasion,
Of your well-earned calluses.
You always feel the scruff of my chin,
On your neck.
The neck he will never know.

Fuck me on my bed.
Bleed on my hard-wood floor.
Let’s get out of this place,
This three-room mansion.
We’re either better than this, or,
I am delusional.
Honestly my dear;

I'd sell myself to the devil...




before I let your lips anywhere near my neck again.
Please stay 10000000000 miles away from me and my heart.
Madison Gill Feb 2015
There’s this spot
on the back of your neck
where your hair
meets your tender
nape,
an expanse of inky sea foam, gently
kissing and retracting
from its fleshy shore
when my fingertips
prod at it,
anticipating
my lips
where they fit
into that niche,
like twin keys for
unique tumble locks.
No other pair
could rest in their mold, or
cast a spark
to the end of
the stem
your exquisite imagination
blooms lilies from
under the skin,
braiding along your spinal cord
like a stone pathway through Eden
I leap from,
end over end,
bending back into the
seamline of
your dark hair,
an ebony thread,
stitching the hems
of your neck
back together.
kylie formella Sep 2014
your hands clasped around the back of my neck when
you kissed me
and you tried to retreat because your curfew's eleven,
but i wouldn't let you go.
now you're at home; maybe
it's not like i would know
because you believe that absence makes the heart
grow fonder
and i believe in spending lifetimes together
now i'm all alone fighting the urge to call;
i want to know what you're doing
i want to know it all
and your hands touched my neck
the way the
noose does
now
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