I’m moving all the way down,
Motions and emotions
You tell me to keep going,
But I stop right…there.
Have I ever told you that your body
And not just any beautiful, more like
The kind that lingers long after one closes their eyes.
Art, changing a non-believer;
Perfect specimen, sexual healer.
You go to hide away,
I pull your hand away,
Baby, I know you…
I love that body like it owns me,
From each curve of your legs, to the sounds your mouth makes,
No dusk nor day break
Can keep you from my head space.
I just wanted to remind you…
You smile behind your frown, feeding me your sad stories. Proud of calculated words dipped in deception, walking backward as I put the puzzle pieces together. Throwing your words in the fireplace, let them blaze into ash through the chimney, metaphoric of how your mouth blows smoke and burned lies into my mind…
Easy to see clearly when cleaned properly.
No blemishes or streaks to block visibility
Outside you’d find sun and palm trees,
But only if you are looking.
Aka, learn from your past, don’t let it stop you from seeing the beauty of what’s ahead of you.
We are sick!
Throwing up accusations
Invading each other’s mental space
Constantly on a difference pace
But we are alive though.
Breathing life into a dying situation
Marrying hope, avoiding the devastation
Of losing each other
To another lover
To be set free with no real constellation;
With a negative revelation
that love could have never saved us.
We are sick, true.
But Im saying hey love! (Smile)
Coursing inside of our veins like morphine through an IV.
Believe me, in me, with me…
And yeah, others love may die, yet
all sickness aside, we are alive,
Stay with me.
Your lips are plump
as your eyes
feelings solid like a tree stump
love vicious but it heals a heart uneasy
attention they try stealing
we run through fields leading away from them all
they follow but they fall
don’t recall asking but i’m all
She was a skinny bone jones.
Breasts were like small bites of
Chocolate Drops, long legs
Carried a head so heavy, you’d
Think she’d topple over into
New York City passerbys.
She’d cry of society’s shallow percipience,
Her beauty a curse.
Confessed that she’d secretly fiend
For impressive intellect,
Marveled at talks of civil rights leaders
And black society in retrospect,
“Black people need discipline, that’s why I became a dominatrix”.
She wanted to beat my ass into a passionate
Submission, believed that everyone was a perfect candidate to pay for what her daddy did to her, especially the ones she loved.
she made confessions of her father’s unorthodox stance on family and romance, or rather family romance, since he loved to put his hands in places that only those molested would understand, then she would switch it up and say that she wanted to see welts and marks of pain on the skin covering my spine, it was time for me to pay the price for his crimes, “turns me on to know I’d be the one in control” but she didn’t know, that it was she that was out in the cold, emotionally starving; alone, hoping that the pain she’d cause means she wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Control is a trick
Even for a dominatrix.
Just lost in the world of her own sickness.
Her beating on anyone wouldn’t erase her dad’s willingness
To feed her life like a leech in heat,
Mentally stealing her chance at real happiness.
I let her go not too long after that,
But I sometimes wonder if she’s found
Or someone new to beat her hurt into.
So what makes a bigger fool, love or pride?
Intuition makes her heart much harder than usual. Her senses are magnified, what if she were right all
along? She didn't want to be. Looking back on easier days, she'd never have to worry
about someones whereabouts, because she simply didn't care. "Nice guys finish last", or maybe the
assholes did, but they didn't care so it was hardly noticed...moments of rejection seemed foreign
because there was always another option waiting for the call, always waiting to obtain the unattainable,
who was never really unattainable, just cautious...full of pride, knowing that love was for fools.
She was tempted to take a drag of a cigarette. Wanted to calm her nerves before she walked in the building.
Her lover, her cause for plight was currently M.I.A. Not missing in action but making it arduous
to figure out her motives. Why was she there? Her previous route would be to find a replacement, but she
knew that doing that would only fulfill a temporary gratification, her mind would still be clouded with
questions, heart still filled with mourning. She didn't know what she was trying to figure out, or
why she was trying to hold on... but she was, and it was exhausting her.