this game we play

This game we play is erotic and thrilling in its temptation,
And we find ourselves at different ends of the bar,
Seeing which of us will give into lust and ecstasy first.
You stroke her cheek, leaning into her a little to close for my liking,
Two can play at this game, my dear lover.
Tempting innocence shrouds my image; after all, there are few men that won’t fall
Prey to blue eyes and a gracious chest wrapped in a sultry dress.
Boys line up to stare nauseatingly down my dress,
But I smile pretty, and let them buy me more drinks,
Waiting for you to grow tired and surrender.
“The way you flirt is shameful,” one states, annoyed at my indifference,
“What you consider to be flirting is deluded,” I say with a shrug,
There is no time to explain the ways of teasing and foreplay to a boy,
For I have my eyes set on a much bigger prize.

Still and tempting, the spot on your lap waits for my ass to place it there,
This game has come to end; I will be the first to admit I lost.
Your hand moves silently up my thighs (teasing the one part of me begging for you),
Dipping and rubbing, wetness accumulating on your hands and my sex,
The bathroom is a good as place as any for us, for our love, and,
For my dress to drop past my hips unto the dirty floor.
Your zipper is already undone, your hands pushing my to my knees,
Where I greedily take you into my mouth, smiling as you jerk and moan
No longer caring who is here to witness our fucked up love affair.
We had thought ourselves too old for the games of children,
Yet I have never been more turned on than here and now.

For those who talk like a god, it is humbling to see you on your knees,
Mouth wide open, my hips have no qualms grinding on your tongue,
Devote to only to your fingers, your hands and tongue and teeth.
Dripping wet, you bend me over, grabbing my hair as you drive hard
Right where I need you and my sharp gasp has nothing to do with the slap on my ass
The stall shakes with every motion, my heels slipping on the wet floor,
Yet, you seem to pick up more speed, my hips frantic to meet your thrusts,
Our mingling cries drowning out the music and noise outside,
My back arches painful as I struggle to keep up while
You merely turn me around and shove my back against the stall, never delaying.
Hands grip the walls as my legs tighten around your hips
The thrill and lust all too much for my senses,
My cunt clenches around you, exploding, taking you with me.
You grip my hips tightly and exhale shakily.
High on the orgasm, I fail to notice the pair of eyes lurking though the cracks,
The couple next to us cums on the sight of us fucking ourselves raw,
Their moans and hands rattling the bathroom we had just christened.
“Guess we’ll have to find a new bar,” I whisper as I shimmy my panties back on.
“That’s what I was counting on,” you smirk.

sins we cannot purify

I remember when you used to be all mine,
Wrapped in shattering kisses and breathless moments,
Eager to please the very soul I had found myself connected to,
But I was afraid to let you in fully,
So I misguided your love towards a different version of myself,
A simple girl: stronger and more capable of handling the darkness in you.

I remember when I used to be yours,
Dressed in white and lace and pink kisses,
And I think you knew I was in love with you,
But you were scared to let yourself feel too much at once,
So you distracted me with drunken words and racy thoughts.

They would remember us as a love to be envied,
Sweet kisses and playful remarks,
But we both know the depth the infatuation had dragged us into,
Mixed in the poison of you and the wine I breath,
To eager to leave the loneliness behind in the misery we had created,
We fell into a bad habit of destruction.

I tried to I find my calling in the forms of others,
And the promises you found at the bottom of the bottle were better than me:
So let me fall in love with someone else, but you’ll always there in my mind.
So, lover dearest, it hurts me to say that I will forever trapped in your embrace,
But this is the price I pay for a love to be felt by the Gods and Saints,
Condemned by the devils that plague our minds, and the sins we cannot purify.

Broke n Heart

Oh sweetheart, how I longed to hear you need me,
But I know you say it from the bottom of your seventh glass,
And need is too strong a word to be found in your vocabulary
Still, the little hope inside me soars, thinking I could change you yet.
Dress it up, with lace and silk, but hope has always been cruel fated for me.

Why are things always not what I want them to be?
Maybe they have been what I needed at the time,
But you could not have been a want or a need with the way you crashed into me,
Feelings to strong and desire present in all the wrong ways,
I fell too hard and fast for a devil like you.

So don’t tell me you need me when you have been fine by yourself,
And don’t say I love you when your heart is guarded by the past and her scorns,
I can’t be waiting and hanging on your every word.
So I’ll kiss you on the cheek and brush the hair from your eyes,
Whispering words that mean more to me than to you,
And I’ll live in this hope of a heart already broken.

Oh, Well

There was a legend about the well in the garden,
Where the vines have grown past their heights,
And the flowers bloom all year round.
But this tale has not to do with nature,
But rather the tragedies that becomes it and its creations,

A fated pair of lovers would meet by this well for as long as could be remember,
It was said to bring luck and love to those who drank from the depths.
So years past, and the lovers could not seem to contain any happiness,
Greedy and eager, making more enemies than friends; too in love with themselves,
Until they fell down the brick hole, swallowed by the depth they once drank from.

A pair of sibling once drank from this well,
Their bond pushing them past the leaves and into the skies,
Yet their feet never seemed to leave the rocks and gravel below,
Until one brother climbed up over his other,
To mesmerized by the stars to watch as his other feel into the darken waters below.

I could tell you about the countless persons to drink from the waters of this well,
But none could tell you their downfall, eyes centered at the bottom of a ripple.
So I sit on top the well, fingers grazing the waters dripping from the bucket,
How could people be captured by the well and its serenity, and,
Not see the poison lingering from the vines and their deadly hold?

the river of stars

The sea is always stormy in the wake of death and heartbreak,
Under a cloudless sky of tragedy the waves wander,
She stands at the shores end, greedy to see what the seas would bring her,
Shipwrecks and pirates who held tales of foreign lands only captured her slightly,
But when a storm as cruel and tumultuous rolls through,
She knows it best to bow her head and marvel at the powerful being nature created.

It is in these crashing waves that she hopes to find beauty and salvation,
Between the cracked seashells and the rising tides,
Blessed by the light the moon provides and the devotion of its stars,
She waltzes across the sands and strokes the winds.
Treasures and pearls roll onto the beach,
Gracing peasants with wealth, children with its magic,
But she knows what she seeks is far more valuable than a trinket.

Beneath the surface of time, her past escapes,
Buried in the changing waters, and drowning lovers,
Sunken in the sands that keep the best of times secrets.
The waters of the tide have always been steady and unforgiving.
She wanders the beaches in search, gazing into the hollowed light of her reflection.

The sky dances with her stars, shimmering off the water,
But her eyes never leave the cliffs.
For she had discovered her claim to the sea,
The scale that would turn the tides in her favor, but for all her grace and beauty,
She could not reach the cavern that held the river of stars.
The winds blew fiercely, protecting the caves and their treasure.

She was only as good as the magnificence of the waters below,
Crystallized and calm, after the storm had ridden though,
But her being could not capture the natural radiance of the sea in the mist of chaos,
So, she waits for more sailors and seasick versions of men,
Ready to sing them a song as old as the sea and just as deadly,
And maybe one day, in return,
She will be granted return to the depth from which she came.
The song of the siren was never meant to fall onto deaf ears.

Down, in a Rabbit (w)hole

Alice chose to fall down with the rabbit, to be lost to the madness of wonderland.
I refuse to give into insanity, the grief of maddens and depravity,
For an unsound mind will never sway a righteous heart,
Oh, but how naïve I was. Fairy-tales are always much darker than depicted,
Wonderland was but a blessing to my chaotic mind,
A trick Alice must have learned from her beloved Hatter.

The looking glass cuts so deep that the Cheshire cannot help but grin,
And the clock begins to tick as crazy and mindless as the minutes that do not pass.
Half past Tea Time, the liquid spills unto the saucer.
So sing with the roses and tulips and lilies,
A song so deadly, the Duchess clings to her crying babe, Alice shuts her ears tight.
Lets hope they don’t smother you in their lyrical game,
For the flowers here in Wonderland are as deadly as their Queen.
And we have all seen how thick and red the blood that flows from the castle.

The march Hare hops through the woods to the Queen of Hearts,
Who controls the sane so invested in their game of fatality,
But how sane are those trapped in the rapture of a psychotic game?
So toss the ball into the maze and run to find it,
Love is but a game to these people, but,
The caterpillar’s smoke will foresee the effects of the idiocy,
And dear sweet Alice will paint herself red to fool herself into belonging,
But we all know how that house of cards falls.

So when the dream becomes to real, and the magic of the land fades,
You will find Alice hidden in the leaves she once sought refuge in,
But no longer do they hold a sense of escape and enchantment,
For the darker effects of the magic have taken hold,
The curious and the curiouser, damned by Alice and her need to find the impossible,
But my dear, breakfast was put a meal away, I was sure of it.
With a cup of tea, you will find no better solution for the rotting of you brain.

Our dear sweet Alice will forever straddle the line,
Between Wonderland and whatever this life has become,
Forever trapped in knowing the sense of wonder and irrationality,
The thrill of knowing she will never touch that sense of madness again.
Wonderland is meant for those who had given into the darkest desires of their mind,
And whose heart could not stomach the choices insanity had left to give.
So I fall down the rabbit hole by choice,
After all, Alice made it back safe and sound…well most of her, anyways.

 

*Image not mine*

Whimsical Stranger

See the light, reflected in your eyes,
As you wander and gaze up at the stars,
Light shining, twisting and glimmering off the dark sky,
And one among them chooses to fall in your presence, down to the earth below,
Scattering, dancing across the skyline and into your eyes,
Dreaming of when you touch them, and give them a place to call home.
I grasp for that star, wishing hard to make a dream come true.
But perhaps I am thinking of a time not yet assumed,
Of a place where we have not yet given our hearts to strangers,
One day, maybe we can look back on this moment in space and time,
Knowing it was here where love conquered all and stars never fell from the sky,
But perhaps, that is a story for more familiar lovers,
And not strangers that meet under the diamond sky.