infinite loops

The thing I cling to when all hell breaks lose,
The same that caused the hell to break in the first place,
What an odd infinite loop I find myself in,
Trapped and at home with the thing that has me going in circles,
What is it about you…?
I mean, is it addiction, or a safe haven,
Or worse, can you be both to me?
I think I’m more afraid of the answer then I’ll admit,
Love isn’t obsession,
Or is it obsession isn’t love,
I’m so unsure what your label is,
That I can’t seem to tell if your harm is filed with good intent,
Or your good is my harm to myself,
Look at myself,
Speaking in riddles, you’ve got my tongue,
Burnt and scarred,
Caressed with your poison,
I lap it up,
Clinging to you, because hell seems to have been unleashed,
And I can’t tell if you were the one to open the gate.

eyes closed

Eyes closed,
The room is mine once again,
I begin to sway,
J jump to a beat that exists only in my head,
And I’m so carefree,
It’s amazing,
I laughing, I jump around without a care,
And smile because no knows the lyrics I’m singing,
It’s mine and mine alone,
And isn’t that something?
To have and hold the one thing that’s yours alone in this socialized world?
I’m high, drunk, hooked on something,
Because I know I can’t feel this without some kind of amplifier,
I need it,
Because I can’t know this kind of joy without a reason in todays world
Nothing is ever free now,
So I stumble as the beat skips a beat, the lyrics begin to mumble and scratch at my ears,
Eyes closed,
Its time for my daily dose,
And I’m jumping and laughing at the needle digs its way into my veins,
Nothing is free with my addiction, but gods to the colors shine bright,
And the worries fade so fast,
I smile because no one knows the lyrics but me,
The code to my shame, my freedom, my everything.

half of something

Half empty half full,
It all depends on what angle you have the glass at,
Because all I see is that poison that fills the glass,
Tempted and ashamed all at once,
Because even though I try,
The glass always winds up in my grasp.
The red liquid coats my lips,
Gives me that allure and seduction I wish to ooze,
Blinding me to the effects I’ll feel in the morning,
And pretend it will be the last time,
But I know I’ll convince myself that it wouldn’t happen again,
That I know control and can practice it,
But I learned from my momma,
The best-kept secrets lay in plain sight,
A glass for stress, a glass for the pain,
A glass because you’ve endured so much wrong from him,
Even though he has no idea you’re hurting this much,
Because he has his own glass to fight, and the shards cut deep into both of you,
The damage is lasting, and it seems like that those glasses never drain,
But I promise they will,
When you learn to accept the flaws and sins and temptation of a damning love,
And know that they don’t excuse the wrong, but help to learn how to fix them,
And then the glass will warp and change right before your eyes.

soft smiles and aggressive hearts

This helplessness, God,
It’s suffocating,
I fight, words screaming and fists swinging,
But I can never seem to land on you,
You dance and tiptoe around my aggression,
Waiting until I tire myself out,
And all that’s left is sullen words and eyes not met,
Oh my, my oh my,
What am I to do if all my fighting spirit withers under your gentle grasp?
How will I defend myself from the invasion you bring about?
Or, do you mean to make peace with the emotions that dwell here already,
For they all seem intrigued by your presence,
Eager and curious to know you,
And I hate it,
For we built such strong walls and sharpened our defenses
Only to have them blown away by a kind hand and soft smile,
Only for them to be fooled by tricky eyes, and pretty lies,
We no longer know who or what to trust,
This helplessness, god,
It undoes me,
And I’m left spinning in the anxiety of what to do without a crutch to cling to…
Who to trust, the fighter or the bruised,
Or are they one in the same,
Both failing to protect the thing they claim as their own,
My strength, my words or my heart,
Which holds more power over your fists?

i did it…

I did it,
Found my inspiration, my hopes and dreams all wrapped in a pretty bow waiting for my at the end of the line,
It was all mine for the taking,
And I’m still here, paused, my feet won’t push myself forward,
Like I’m trapped by the thought of what if,
But there are no ifs—I did it, I thought this was supposed to be the one thing I strived toward.
I made it to the end,
Yet…why does this feel like that end..?
The one where I lose everything I worked so hard for,
All because I stopped trying, stopped caring, simply because I no longer had to,
Is that what happens to passion?
It devours us completely, all we begin and end to think about,,.
Only for it to leave us after it has had its fill,
And our once thriving creativity becomes hollowed, awaiting the next passing craze to fill us,
But it would never be the same,
I did it,
So why can’t I finish it?

stardust and sinners

There was a time when I believed good had always outweighed the bad,
Where love would find a way and prayers were answered by a power beyond me,
But then I met you, a fallen angel among the crude masses of man,
And I began to believe in new religion all together.

Magnified in the confides of angels and demons,
Humans have always had a way of exploiting the gift of free will.
Made in the image of an angel with minds demonic and sinful,
Man struts across the Earth, leaving in his trail, lies and the damage of the corrupt.
Beautiful disasters set to destroy the Earth and her love.

So despite the danger it meant to a good girl too far gone
My heart was smitten with the likes of you.
And I can only watch helplessly as she falls for your ruthless charm and sex,
All the while begging on my knee for more of your delusional love.

Let us fall into each other without a care for anyone else,
A demon and a girl who knows not what she is capable of.
Take me far from this place and her soon to be ancient ruins,
And as we sit on clouds floating above,
Lets watch the world collapse into itself, straying far from what she used to be.

Trapped in the desire and greed of man and all his destruction,
The world is wrapped in façade and chaos.
But darling, you have always been the focus of my universe,
However deranged that seems. So let the world fall, and we’ll dance on her ashes
Collecting stardust and starlight to create a world meant for sinners like us.

drown in me

Jump in, the water is fine,
Don’t be nervous, I want this as much as you do,
The way your body moves,
Taking its time to crawl over to mine,
Over mine, ready to express that primal love I so desperately crave,
Jump in with me,
Give in,
I know you’re dying to,
I want, no need, you to give it up,
Let go, give over the control of the river,
Let it flow over you, consume you in every aspect,
The nerves, your every sense clouded by me,
God how I want to be your everything,
The thing to desperately need, the sex that has you seeing stars,
The thing that motivates you, the one thing that makes you hot and chaotic,
I crave that feeling from you,
Fall into my bed, fall into me, in between my legs,
Moan for me; sing for me in the sweetest of melodies,
Let my tongue guide you, lower and lower, the pressure is building higher,
My body response so well,
Jump in darling, the water is heating up the more we drag this out,

Give in to me,
Twisting yourself around my current
It’s okay to go with the flow darling,
I promise my ripe tide won’t tear you apart,
Well, only enough to drag you under, to let you drown in me.

Tempting the Sun Across the Night Sky

The blood you’ve drawn is hotter than any love you could give,
For the fire that burns in you is quick to set aflame those who you touch,
Ready to swallow promises that sit on the tip of your tongue.
Those who’ve known your touch never stay for long,
Sensing the embers within your soul,
Their bodies too heated to last under the rising temperature.
So I tread lightly, for I have been burned once before,
The sun is always more tempting from across the night sky.

So with your smoldering eyes and sharp tongue,
I let you take sin and me to your bed, made of satin and cotton.
As the moon rises, lighting my body with faded white light,
Your mouth makes pictures on my skin,
The red left behind is nothing but a memory of a fleeting touch,
And the embers you give off become nothing more than a candle in the wind.

Our union is nothing short of a good time,
Falling under the sheets and in between my breasts,
So I ride out what is left of my dignity,
And let you shove my face into the pillows, my hips rising to meet yours.
I scream as you move roughly, never pausing to let me adjust,
You shake as I bite the space between your chest and neck.
And we continue this game for some time, but never for long,
Collecting our time spent would be too much for both of us to give.

Over the table, through the door, there is no ground that we have not consummated,
Yet the feeling behind it gives as much as we take.
And my heart knows that there will be no coming back from a mistake like this,
While yours is too wrapped up in an orgasm, never breathing the space between.
I move away from your fire, and give myself to the ashes.
And you, too caught up in the feeling, cannot know your own fire is your demise.
So I let you be consumed by the trusted feeling of pride and arrogance,
Falling to my knees and taking you into my mouth,
As I smother the remains of a fire too bright to burn much longer.
When you have come down and the smoke has cleared,
You glance at me, astonished that I could hold a power so close to your own.
But I wipe my mouth of any trace of you and rise to my feet,
For any fire to meet my touch would always melt away,
Evaporating into smoke and ash, long to be forgotten by the wind and sky.
While sex had become your safe haven, your heated touch gracing untouched skin,
The fire extinguished those who wandered to close; I held my breath and blew,
Knowing your candle would never hold to my lips so close to the dawn,
For the rising sun only holds power over the fading twilight when the dawn has finally broke.

Loving You in the Dark

Loving you in the dark,
These words tainted as they drip from my lips to yours,
Shrouded in the best form of that crazy kind of love,
I can’t help myself, crying out words that would have a saint blush,
And a sinner grovel in praise.
Lets hide away in the dark, slip your hands down lower, lower…there,
And lets explore the hidden truths we find buried between them.

Honey liquid, lapped from between my legs,
Your tongue whispers the words you’re afraid to speak,
Let each pretty lie and that terrifying truth dance on my breasts,
The best and worst parts of this love,
And I can’t help but to wonder, what makes a pair of lovers like us?
Those that bleed and cry, those that fall in love so passionately and quickly,
Eager to start a life wrapped in each other…
I can’t find the fault in you that would make me run,
Rather, easy come easy go, my body accustom to the pressure on a stranger on top of me, each touch different yet thrilling in their unknown.
But your touch stops me in my tracks,
The way your fingers trace my face,
The way they trail down my body, your eyes quick to follow.
And I can feel myself heat up at the mere thought.
My sex dripping and you’ve yet to touch me.
Maybe that’s the affect of love on the brain, the way you fuck me into remembering only your touch, your cries and the way the sound ringing off my walls,
And I’ll do my best to trap them within my heart, or at least, the path up to her.

Legs shaking, these heels can’t seem to hold the weight of your love,
So take me hard one last time, let the bruises on my hips be a way to remember you by, the best traces of you left on my skin, take all you want…
From behind, let my ass slap against your hips, rhythmic and seductive,
Force my head into the sheets, gasping and moaning for each breathe,
Make me feel each thrust, each sharp drive further and further into the very best part of me,
And catch me as I fall apart underneath you,
Shaking and moaning from the pressure that finally releases through you,
And I promise that this sex will unfold the best-kept secret.
One day, I’ll be able to love you in the light,
The sun reflecting off our bodies as we lay in the aftermath of this sinful glory,
But for now, let me love you in the dark, because it’s the best way I know how.

I am a Girl: I am a Woman: And I don’t Know the Difference Between the Two.

I am 7 when I’m told that I can’t play with the boys.
“It’s to dangerous”, “Boys play rough”, “You could get hurt”,
But these phrases mean nothing to a seven year old,
A little girl who just wants to play with the boys.
I was 7 when they told me I can’t play with the boys,
It didn’t matter that the boys wanted me on their team,
It was the adults that had a problem.

I am 13 when my body begins to change,
It’s absolutely terrifying and no one will answer my questions.
The nurse simply tells me my parents will explain everything.
I was 13 when I was told I had to wear a sports bra,
Because now that fat was developing on my chest, my nipples were offensive,
And if the boys saw them, it might stir their “masculinity” and distract them.
No one cared that the sports bra was uncomfortable.
That I had no real answers, just more questions.

I am 15 when a boy sticks his tongue down my throat,
Fumbling to unclasp my (not sports) bra.
Nothing to stare at but the roof of the car, because I can’t look him in the eye,
The car is silent save for his groans, his hot breath somewhere between my ear and neck.
I was 15 when he tells me, “Everyone’s doing it. It’s not a big deal.”
There was nothing sweet, magical or joyous about it.
It hurts and all I can focus on now is the pain as tears build in my eyes,
Because he’d forgotten a condom, so he had to improvise.
There were ways to remain “virgin”, he says, as if putting it there is more special,
And I had no choice but to believe him.
He got to high five all his friends; I couldn’t sit for a whole week.

I am 17 when I realized my body was a blessing and a curse.
It was why I got stares and looks, why I got “special treatment”,
(It is summer and hot and of course I wasn’t going out in jeans and a long sleeved tee.)
He stalks over, telling me he’d like to fuck me,
Because screwing jailbait was on his bucket list.
I was 17 when I punch a graduate student in the face.
I was told, “I shouldn’t be a bitch about it. It was a compliment.”
My friends told me he was hot; he could have been my summer fling.
My revulsion didn’t stop him from telling everyone he banged me anyway,
From telling everyone I was just a jealous crazy bitch.
It didn’t stop them from leering and whispering behind my back.

I am 18 when I lose my virginity to a married man.
He is kind, and laughs at my jokes, and I won’t find out he’s taken until the next day.
There is nothing magical or even romantic, but there is a gentleness I’d never felt.
I was 18 when I lost my virginity, and it was not special.
I wake up, disoriented and naked. I don’t ask questions as I put on last nights dress.
The tears don’t come until I make it back to my dorm.
I meet his wife the same day at my campus job, and he winks at me from behind her.

I am 21 when we all go to the bar, excited with our newfound freedom.
It is crowded and loud, nothing like you see in the movies.
We want to think we’re special when a group of men come up to us, buying our drinks.
I was 21 when a man old enough to be my father tries to pick me up.
Married, for 20 something years he tells me, as if that makes him a good man.
He leans towards my face, “You seem like a good girl.” I don’t know what that implied.
Uncomfortable, I drag my friend over, telling the man he is my boyfriend.
“You’re too hot to stay committed to one guy,” the man says,
And even in my state, I know something is not right.
Saved by my friend’s boyfriend, I cannot grasp the reality of the situation,
Until we are stuck walking home from the bar, 10 miles away from school.

I am still 21 when I come to understand the definition of sexual harassment.
My supervisor lets his gaze wonder up and down my body, rarely looking my in the eye.
I let it happen, naïve, because I had been getting those looks since I was 16.
I was only 21 when I learned to use sex as a weapon,
Wielding it until I no longer knew the difference.
Alcohol was a crutch; she was the only thing that let me continue my war,
The only supply I had on demand—drowning reason and sense with each sip.
He was more than willing to give, as long as he got something in return.
I knew the war was lost when I no longer saw the need to fight for something so pathetic.
Sobering up was the hardest part—remembering what I’d done in blackouts and shame.
She had been in my veins far to long, a crutch to a warrior who never knew the stakes.
Whereas, he was to blind to see I knew the games he played, even played them better.
It took the better part of the year for him to stop texting and calling.
Though he still keeps tabs, letting me know I cloud his thoughts as he jerks himself off.

I am a girl, I am a woman, and society cannot care to tell the difference.
It does not matter that I have opinions, that I do not like to be likened to sexual demeanor’s and vulgar gestures—that I am nothing more than my body.
It only matters that—I fall into line, speak when spoke to, and know my place.
My sex is a weapon, but in a war I wanted no part in, and a battle I shouldn’t have to fight.
I am a girl, I am a woman, and I do not know the difference between the two.