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S.R Devaste Mar 2010
she was not chained, but tangled
in the fur of his kisses or the stickyness of his glances
it turned her fingertips red and made her eyes squeeze
their world was a tropical snowglobe with a little boat that tumbled around their sky
and she lapped against the plastic like a tide
looking up at him with forgiving eyes.
betterdays Jan 2015
you mumble and maunder
all through your afternoon
nap....
never quite still,
but not thrashing about...

and then you wake,
tired and grumpy
all sweat and stickyness

two hours of tired
and five years of sassiness
standing before me
with thunderclouds for
eyebrows....
                      you want!!!....

but what you get is
a big hug a quick dash
to the next door neighbors pool....

please god....when will this
heatwave end???
not much sleep....hot sticky
5 year old....we all needed
a quick dunking to cool down....
Ravenous Jul 2012
As she leaned apon the rail lost within the moons dance apon the dark waters below.
She was lost in the nights essense a lost soul basking in a mirage.
Its so peaceful isnt it?

Yes it is.
In my truest effort I fought my urges to strike its in your own skill to fight the urges that shows true power.
Her back turned to me I knew the moment was near.
I slid my arms around her she feared not for if only she could understand to lay in the jasw of the wolf was to understand  seconds of existance were a blessing in themselfs.


Ive wanted this for so long she said as her softness would soon understand the harshness of sandpaper and knife.
My hands felt the flesh but no moments release would tarnish my killers need.
What are you doing !?

It's in the moments when my hands held her troat that the machine takes over no thought need apply.
Her cries were simply a cry of my truest plessure her fear the perfume of my deepest desire.
She fought yet my weight pushed her against the rail while my arm wrapped around her throat as a snakes grip tightens around its prey crushing the weak.

I tasted her fear as sweet as the tears that ran from her soon to be dead eye's.
She gave so much more than a simple release for my thirst.
I the hunter inthedarkness the vyper of silence finally let loose to strike.

I loved taking them to the edge as her body began to fade i let loose my grip only to catch her throat with the blade.
She fell to the ground unable to scream choking apon her life force that so quickly painted the ground in sweet stickyness .

Please stop!

She said somehow I felt it strange they all had so little to truely say.
As if they could only use the same words all were sheep with the same voice
how tender was the slaughter.

She crawled so very slow cries herd only to me how wonderful was her preformance .

My dear  you seem to have made such a mess off your new blouse.
Why dont we clean it up in fact lets wash you clean.

Picking her almost limp body i held her close for the last time yet embraced my estasy of eternal thoughts or others nightmare.
The blood a scent none could ever imagine.

Oh my dear girl  how it been so much fun but are time has passed.
I cast her over the rail her bodys fall so loud so sad if tree falls in the woods  can anyone  ever hear it?
I basked in the nights magic a wolfs howl a killers desire mythirst quenched for now.

How I just adore a summer romance.
DarkDepriment Oct 2015
My Depression is beginning  to feel like a stickyness on my fingers that I can't quit wash off

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