You're Next to Me.

I sit here. Dwelling. Thinking. Listening. Breathing.
The warmth hits my frost bitten toes, my frost bitten face, my frost bitten
Heart?
Hm, well...that's something of a stretch.
"Shut me out"
Her voice says, screams, echoes, chimes,
Somehow it speaks to me.
Something about this girl's high pitched whining says something.
Something meaningful. something full of want. Full of craving.
Full of music. Full of the gusto I wish I could muster.

Reading between the lines is a great thing,
Especially if your a writer.
Like me.
If I told you how I felt straight up, you'd laugh at me.
You'd make fun of me for trying to talk to you.
You'd poke at me with that stick of ignorance your parents gave you.

Aphroditie and Lancelot. (Oh... How good are you.)

Highest point of the night,
Swiping at my card,
Grasping at my lips, my jeans, my cunt.
My wallet couldn't be further away;
The little pills I need to feast upon are too much for me to bear!

This raw dick grazing the insides of my lustfully inclined soul.
(call me vulgar all you wish,
But you sick bastards pray that I'm the dish
You sink your fingertips, your mushroom tip and tongue tip
Into.)
It's so hot,
It's so warm,
It's so strong.
Compared to my weak and pathetic craving of his thick long cock.

Am I reduced to this?
A wanton woman of carnal glee?
Or am I love-starved?
Fiendish intentions are clawing at my back.
The base of my brain, BURNS
For this delicious phrase of Love.

Whisper your sweet nothings down my throat,
To the swell of my breath,
To the arch of my back,
and down into my heart,
Like the sweat that pours from your face and
The palms of my hands.
Kiss them like pearls
FEAST on me as though I were your last meal!

I need it.
Your love, like a coke-head scrounging up for change.
make me yours.
devour me.
eat this soul wrapped in cashmere sheets of skin.


xx

Supercalafragalisticexpialadocious.

I can't being to start rattling off.
My mental capacity of random information,
Like a verbal mouse, squeaking and scurrying like
The fabric of the soles of your shoes.

These pants feel tight,
This ring feels like it's eating my thumb
In a hungry notion of a ravished child of African
Natures.
Mothering his extended stomache like a fowl Stillborn
Ingrown fetal matter to the side of your guts.

This, child, so to speak;
Is the bane of my poetical mind.
This,
Child.
Green and leafy, like they should be
Total rapture in its' caress.
Like a ragged silken rope
Tightening around your neck, reminding you
Of

Corprate necktie wearing
Jurers that make this malcontent thing of beauty
Die.
Wither
Like the waters of the mother's afterbirth placenta.

Scorning The Lolita [original]

The smell of her perfume makes it hard to breathe at night.
The overbearing scent of patchouli
and gardenia isn't a smell
A nose like mine can handle.
Scorning the lolita, was what it was called;
The beauty on the walls of
bloody scents of ambergris, musk and dead flowers
Spin the heads of millions.
They drowned her head into
that puddle of intoxicating vomit.
Doused, doused, doused.
Drown, down, down.
Let's see how far she can swim,

---------------scorning the lolita

For Roezi [original]

A flutter of the lashes,
A wisp of words from that mouth and I could die.
Swing the hair around your face and grin,
You could kill an entire group of men,
With a stare

Can I dance with you?
Elegant little queen
Of vintage, Siouxie Sioux, and Hookah smoke.
You look lovely tonight by the way.

Your dress...are you getting married?
White virginal cotton on pale vampiric skin,
The red lips give it away,
You're such a model, it pains me to take my eyes off of you.

You little heartfelt tart.

~

Well... To Start off...

I am terribly sorry I haven't posted anything from my vaults OR from Stumbleupon OR other sources of poetic lust and love. I feel sort of bad :/ Well, look forward to some meaty and some lusty poems in the next few days~! I, hopefully, will find some old peices you may like and some new ones you will be fond of ~

Til then

The Management.