For the words you utter
I pry fervently
If is mould of dust;just like me

I just don't get it
And finds it hard if I do
How can mere words be so hominid
Soft and ****

I just don't get it
The very sight
****** and cloack me with lewd
And make my entire body sweet
Like am dip in a jacuzzi
Full of chocolate and sugar
And lays my head on pluffy pillows
As it swift to the lanes of my mind
And twine my hair so brilliantly

I just don't get it
Who taught it my weakspots and hormones?
Who taught it all those gentle touches;
And ***** talks?
It whispers into my ears
Nuzzling my lobes and rings

I just don't get it
It defiles me completely
When it massages the pits
Of my elbow and knees
As my pupil dilates and mutters"I want you"so gently

I just don't get it
It makes my ******* get hard,and lurch
And bust my blouse
I gasp for fresh air
When it kisses all over me,and ends in the middle of my tighs
As I drip the tears of pleasure,and moans helplessly

I just don't get it
It follows me everywhere
Even in my bathroom
When it grips my moldy towels,and gets deep within me
And makes my heart beat faster than the athletes

I just don't get it
Not even in my sleep will it let me by
When it watches over me,and get into my dreams
And brews creams in my pants

I just don't get it,
Your words,your words
Your words is a man

Your words
©Historian E.Lexano

I was ecstatic, the thrill, the rush.
I felt like I'm going on an adventure with friend.
Before getting in we had had our amours on and, we never used our guns.
Slowly, I started forgeting that we're at war with one another.  
I told him all my  weakspots and he told me his.
Letting him know where to shoot if he wanted me injured or dead
Sluggishly I  removed my amour and let my gun go(I trusted my friend).
He encouraged me to do so but he never took off his.  
I removed the amour forgetting it's there to protect me.
Forgetting that I was still at war .
Once it came off it could never go back on .
My opponent realized that this would be the perfect time for him to do an experiment.
He shot  me where I told him it would hurt me the most.
I felt the bullet go straight from my back and it pierced through my heart before leaving my torso.
I bled on him.
And he helped me nurse the wound.
Soon I healed and  I forget about the pain.
But.
Everytime I'd forget, I'd feel another bullet. Entering and exiting my body the same way it did the first time.
This went on and on again.
He hurt me over and over again .
I grew tired and weary of the pain.
Finally, I admitted defeat and left the battle grounds.
Now I look at my heart I can only see my scars from The "friendly" gunfight.