Verse, Hurts, Love, and Lies

I am desperate.

You Possess Me (1s Draft)

You Possess Me -(Revised)

I see your pain radiating out of you like warmth from a fever and I want to plunge my hand into your heart and pull out the sickness. I want to burn it to ash with my love and bury it where you can never see it. You are holding onto a rope above the pit of your love for him. You’re slipping inch by inch as the rope burns your hands. Do you want me to pull you up or let you hang until your arms grow numb? You are so good at throwing out the words “fine” and “good” While lacing each letter with poisonous denial. Your hurt slaps me across the face. I don’t know how to help you. I wish I could steal back what he took. I want to steal back all your smiles. I want to steal back the laughter. I want to steal back the innocence of the untouched.

Spectator -(Revised)

They come in pairs In colors, lengths, fabrics. Essential and easily forgotten or worse, Lost. We always lose them like the memories we don’t have use for. Or they wear down, threadbare, full of holes, thrown away without thought or regret. Useless without a pair, a match. not really. The pairs need not be perfect, There is no rule for that as there are no rules for how to name children or how to dress twins. Only preferences, Choices. We choose pairs Even if it means nothing in the end Even if they are still perfectly good on their own Even if they are the same aside from color Even if there are none left but an imperfect match. I do not keep my socks in the pairs they came in. My drawer is a jumble of colors and lengths and fabrics That my hands reach into and makes pairs of. I like it that way.

The Day it Swerved

There are messages between every line of text.

The keys are cold beneath fingers that bleed red hot nothings for thirsty anonymous beasts. Words that travel across necks, kiss thighs, and lick shafts. They reply, they sing praises and sighs thinking I am on the same brink. I am on the brink of nothing. How easy it is to make them moan, groan, and beg for more, all while I sit, untouched, unaffected. They ask me if they were good and I stroke their egos like they imagine I stroked their members. They type back fevered and lust ridden compliments that I eat like candy and spit back out like gum. 'Did you cum?' 'Yes, babe. You were so good.' How easy they fall for lies. My fingers keep playing them like pianos and I cannot stop myself. It is not the same as it once was. It is not the same as it was with you. My fingers are cold and their bodies are warm. It's not fair. You used to warm me, tease me, love me with words that touched and kissed and fucked. Was I good babe? You used to think so

Your pillowed lips on my racing pulse send signals to my finger tips "touch what you want, and take what you need" My hands find soft hair and tug it until lips meet in a flurry of passion.  Grinding against each other between a symphony of moans and pleadings for skin upon skin An ancient dance our souls know better than our temporary bodies. Torn clothing dress the naked floor as gasps fill the air. Truths spoken through sighs and moist touches. Need, carnal and so very human as you join with me.  So deep in my body and mind that words cannot form. But I sing in my head, an ancient song of bliss. Groping hands search for purchase on your back, a plain of muscles that tense and relax with every thrust.  My voice reaches pitches I cannot sing on a normal day, and you silence me with tongue and lips.  Come with me in ecstasy. Come with me until you have touched all you want and have taken all you need.

Pale skinned starlet do you shine bright? Am I dimmer for taking more sunlight? Fair skinned beauty, are you not as red and pink beneath the surface as I, or do you hide something I cannot provide? Are our worldly circumstances so different because of this? I am born of color and just as dazzling. My skin tells stories of tropical storms and white sand beaches, lived by proud ancestors ashamed of my shame. I am born of color and should wear it as a badge of honor. Yet I have found myself looking upon you light beauties, wishing I could see you in my mirror.

She wanted you to tell her that her hair shined like moonlight and her eyes made you stay.