O’ why can’t I get out of here! Is it comfort, malaise, or not knowing how to deal?
I stare blankly in 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.
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…
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
photo courtesy of www.sparklingdirect.co.uk
Each morning I wake up and I think, how can I outdo myself and my incredible talent for poetry? (haha) How can I please the reader, take them on a journey, but more importantly, how can I impress my narcissistic self?
It is 11am after all…so, I pour a glass of White Merlot in my fave wine glass and sit down at my laptop to dwell. I pulled the coffee table over toward me more because a girl shouldn’t have to over-reach when stretching to pick up her wine glass.
But then, as I reach for it I notice a pain in my upper left rib. This isn’t highly unusual because it’s an old fracture. However, it freaking hurts today. Then I think back to last night and the proverbial light bulb in my brain goes on. The sex was feverishly hot and a bit rough. The poetry muse begins to tango with her long legs and high heels commanding me to get to work.