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.
I am somewhere else not where I am lost in this daisy atmosphere going up, up, up
I was in a good place the other day but now I’m drifting away- too far, too much
As if there were no gravity to hold my soul in place and it hurts as it’s being torn out
The bpd is getting the best of me driving people I love away- even after he took me back
What kind of a fool am I that my mind torments me so as indelicacy grips my ribs and won’t let go
Will I survive another day to endure more of myself or at least what is left of this mad hat sanity
I am somewhere else not where I am and lost in this daisy atmosphere.
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 as I fondle the suppleness of her breasts in my soft hands
Unraveling these feelings until raving and partying ravishes my mind warped in time.
I gazed through the open window~Searching, longing, looking~But can’t find the trees today
I played with light yesterday~fading in and out of shadows~But can’t find the light today
I gauged his laughing sounds and mouth~Saving the memory of his face~I can’t find the laughter now
You there, reading my private thoughts~Invasive and intrusive~Demanding a conclusion to this verse~
I’ll write the end you need
Then find a way to help me see.
Yes, my poems seem dark and dreary. One time I tried a happy verse but it didn’t seem to work. The clouds blocked the sun, the earth began to shake.The time and space continuum collided and NASA locked me up. Then, the CIA got involved and called me a national threat. They flagged my email, spied on my journal and called the President. All the Heads of State met deciding what to do. They put me in orange, cuffed my hands and threw me in Gitmo. So, I no longer write the happy verse and have begun to curse. You should have heard the words that came out-even the terrorists became afraid-and ran from this little blonde girl.