Yearly Archives: 2009

Just Passion

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Your breath, let linger upon my neck,
Your fingers, let trail down my side,
Your tongue, let fire a million nerves,
Your body, let wrap around mine,
Without guilt, without revenge. Just passion

Yourself, let take me to a heaven upon earth,
Your hands, let caring caress me,
Your lips, let lock and dance with mine,
Your voice, let charm and impress me,
Without hate, without sorrow. Just Passion

Your length, let thrust through darkened hours,
Your touch, let explore most elated,
Your words, let enter and plunder,
Your eyes, let see beyond their sights,
Without other cares, without distraction. Just Passion
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Not One For Smiling

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He's not the one for smiling,
He loves his darkness so.
Everything a shade of black,
With stains of unwanted heart beats.

He wallows in his own sorrow,
But edges the worst away by blade,
He has a girl, a lover,
He sees collateral, a hostage.

More than a major depressive,
Un-controlled by Prozac, or Clozapine,
Prone to miss a dose,
And not scared to overdose.

He doesn't give a damn,
Tries to defend those around,
But loses his own battle,
Loses his own mind.

Unforgivable

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Sorry shan't heal my wounds,
It won't take away my pain.
What happened, unforgivable, evil,
And I've yet to understand it all.

I used to unfathomably trust,
To let people understand me,
Yet now these scars,
​Prevent me from standing free.

How could a friendly gesture,
Breach all walls of protection,
Leave me unguarded, insecure,
Fearful of the monster, that's you.

I doubt my own mental strength,
And your strategic attack
Shatters any fortitude remaining,
To grant your one, unforgivable wish.

Thoughts

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Often thoughts are all that counts,
Sometimes words are
- just - just -
A minimal means of Daily communication.
When all that is necessary is a thought,
The vibration of human psychological activity,
restricted for a lack of telepathy,
confusing the vital with but only the uncalled for
- objectives - objectives - 
Which are just simplified versions of hatred for ourselves.

Lilith

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Beneath the moon-drop eve he waits,
Watching time drift past his brow,
Whilst the owl twittered in the ferns,
And the sparrows nestled in the twigs,
And the cold wind wisps wild 'round the willows,
T'wards the twisted taverns of town,
So he waits past the sunset,
Waiting for the angel of his hearts desire.

He waits for the girl of god,
With rich brown locks draped over
Her petite and delicate face,
With silken, glossy skin that's laid
Perfectly over her womanly curves.
Fine satin flows over her form,
Crested gold sits upon her hair,
Crowning her with the first woman's halo.

A Death Wish

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A blade, metallic and pointed,
Strong and Powerful too,
Leaves a mark, a scratch,
A scar, memories proof.

A flame, fiercest monster,
Red, yellow, green and blue,
Melting and burning,
An ash pile left as remains.

A bottle of little pills,
Pink, white, and so potent,
Helping and healing,
Helping the hurt go away.

A rope, fiber wound tight
tough and flexible,
Knotting and holding,
Breathlessly available.

A river, deep and dark,
Flowing with currents of gold,
And icy wasting waves.
What a lung filler