Why am I not good enough? I don’t understand. Except, there’s this. I’m not thin. I’m not smart. I don’t reach for your hand. I stare at your mouth and then look away- remembering every day. I’m a stupid bitch and a selfish little thing. I can’t please you, why do I try? Everything I say and do you say you see the truth. My reality is different and I think you know the rouse. No matter though, this whole languid Greek tragedy is over.
O’ why can’t I get out of here! Is it comfort, malaise, or not knowing how to deal?
I stare blankly into your eyes and you grasp me firmly in your arms- I scream, let me go!
You look away and then turn back with tears- what story line have you dreamed up?
This is it, yes is it, there is no other way. I push you off the cliff and you holler, still holding my hand.
We lay beside each other on the ground, black eyes shining- and a single raven…circling around.
Cranberry lips leave a thin line around the rim
He doesn’t remove it- thinks it’s hot and I’m fine
Wet lips explore his mouth and he tastes me like sweet candy
Relishing the intimate moments we’re daring to share
In the quiet of the moonlight we take our time to touch
To feel his large hands cupping me it’s almost. too. much.
Love or lust? Does it matter? Do I care?
His dark eyes and warm tan body makes me want to sin
Suddenly we are skin to skin and my hand rubs up and down him.
Trying to unravel these ravings that ravish my mind tied up as they are in time
The dirtiness abounds the cravings become and I try to behave like a normal being
Mortal wounds flare up and push me down as I fondle these letters in my soft hands
Unraveling feelings until raving and partying ravishes my mind warped in time.
She grips the pillow tightly like someone may come in the room and take it. Not the one under her strawberry blonde hair, of course, but the one her boyfriend lays on. It’s comforting this cold night. She listens to the low hum of the fan that’s constantly running and that steady droll makes her feel better. There’s a loneliness when the dark world has their eyes shut and you’re the only one awake.
Write something! Break this long, fucking dry spell of writer’s block-even if what comes out completely sucks. Your few fans may understand, being writers themselves. If they laugh at you-you’ll never know it! Hold that head high! Just remind them you’re a stoic poet with a slight sense of humor. And maybe they will come back and read more another day…
O’ please just let me be in a drunken stupor until the election and madness is over.
Downfall and distraction, rhythm and blues
Burning my throat, making me hot
Touch me and tease me, can this be right?
Starry eyed and climax in the night