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Clay Feet Jan 2015
Lovely mornings, evenings, nights our hearts took flight
Laughing ceased as sighs increased.

Wafts of sensual sweet smells rose.
Bodies, curved in writhing poses glowed.

Cares lost in arousing touch, lingering fingers longed for
Secrets, shared in sacred sighs and wanton lies.

Arching union quivered and quaked.

I whispered then and will again
Stilettos are not made for walking,

Their soul purpose, freeing our rising desires,
Feeding rapturous tinglings of sensual ecstasy.
Edited 02/01/2015
Kate Pruneau Mar 2017
As I floated in the darkness,
trying to find any trace of  consciousness,
I let relief wash over me,
as I realised I was dead.

There was no more work,
no more traffic,
no more bickering family,
no more waking up.

No more listening to a fool give their opinion,
when the truth's begging to be said,
no more offended peoples,
who are hurt by a breath.

No more listening to my faults be told,
by being yelled at in the face,
no more worrying,
about any shred of "fate".

Then I realised I was thinking,
which the dead do not do,
and I felt the suffering wash back over me
as life dragged me into existence.
Violet Apr 2017
With my sickness, I'm a monster:
Encephalitis has made me wrong.
Every month, I get to my doctor,
who tells me to actually stay strong!

For I seem like such a horrid being,
my disease formed me to that.
I'm now in a nightmare, dreaming,
since my head’s just spat!

It's sad I sound like a freak,
I've really lost most of my friends.
How I'm now, like a geek,
it just seemed like the end!

Suicide was what I'd thought of:
but good thing I then got through.
Since every lives’ great to adore,
no one’s should ever look blue!
I hate how I've been sighing so much these days...
s Oct 2017
he’s addicted to the high
from egotistical joy rides. he revels
in self pride, arrogance apparent in
his stride. but his confident exterior
is built from narcissistic lies. he can’t handle
hearing “no”- rejection leaves him mortified.    

this is not the first time
he's come to me ****-eyed.      
he asks for my consent, politely i deny.
he refuses to listen, preparing to defy.
my fear becomes palpable-
his desire

“no, no, no!” yet his hands
are on my thighs. “we have to tonight.”
his words cut like a knife.
i don’t understand why
i’m forced to comply. (this is my body,
don’t i get to decide?)

my bones calcify, my heart’s
a ship that’s capsized
i’ve been dehumanized and
yet i'm forced to act alive.

i look in the mirror
and let out a long sigh-
is it his soul or mine
that’s been demonized?
ˏˋDalPalˊˎ Dec 2014
You don't know it but
You're the reason I'm awake
And you'll always be.
I wish you weren't though.
Aryeh Levine Sep 15
For now
my tears drop only
when the inside of my face fills
with a holy perspiration
that collects with a musical tension
right until the ******
when the drops become too heavy
to cling to the ceiling
of my mind's eye
they fall into the grass
that wiggles my toes
and that's all I can handle
For now
Matt Shade Apr 13
A man stood up to pass me by,
and heading briskly for the door,
let loose an almost inaudible sigh-
what could he have been sighing for?

Could it have been for all the friends
who never call him anymore?
Or was it in woe of all of the ends
of happy times gone long before?

Or are his motives less self centered,
and he sighs for the human race?
Was he so solemn when he entered,
and did he walk at such a pace?

I wonder just how many sighs
contribute to our atmosphere-
if bottled up, how much it buys,
and does one ever disappear?

Could I have answered to this sigh
and brought a castaway to shore?
Could it have been a silent cry,
or just a sigh and nothing more?
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