Tag Archives: Affection

Mispelled Pleasure

You may not be in love
But you’re hypnotised
Hooked the moment your eyes met my waist

The roll of my hips
The softness of my bottom lip, the flick of the top
The weight of my legs

You fell under my spell
And I fell for the feel of your hands and touch of your skin
The rise of your chest and the grunt of your breath
As my leg hung mid-air
I realised I could not control this spell
And the curse of Want that was to follow

All control was lost and I began to fall for my own spell

I began to beg
For my leg to wrap around your waist
To feel your lips on my neck
I became weak in ecstasy all because of you

All in want of you.

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The Pressure

I feel their many hands
Clamouring onto my feet
Hear the gnashing of their teeth
And in my mind the anxieties of their souls they do speak

Air thick with the hunger for freedom
Begging me for salvation
The lamentations of the ones who cannot speak
Seek me like pilgrims seek enlightenment

But why do these dark souls clamouring at my feet, now hanging onto my legs
Ask for spilt blood as their release fee?

My legs are getting tired now.
My soul would like to just be.

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Hate Needs Lovers Too

As you sit there and I idly chatter, I can see the demons begin to prod your mind
Ever illusive when you question if they are truly there
Apart from when you’re unaware at the growing pit of darkness that subdues you in your bed
Any conscious effort to exorcise yourself lost as you are slowly misled, by those dark little fairies dancing around your head
You wish to cry out
Bed laden with sweat
You want air but now a goblin sits on your chest, resisting your urge to open the window and leave the bed
Your legs weak yet restless

No one can help you in this state
Shame has crowned your head, oh how you pray you was an ancient African King instead

The demons know your dreams, so they know the quickest path to your mental death

Still, I sit here with you and drink with you
For I too know what it’s like to have a daily death
But I must leave soon for your fiery disposition destroys me to my depths

I do not wish to reach hell yet.

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Open Philosophy

What is it?
This demon?

Can make you twist your words
Confused and hot-tempered
Calm you like the winds
And ready your body like an animal for mating season

Yearning for more even though you never even realised you said yes?

The air of mystery producing fertility in the mind

Seeds not yet sown reaping fruit that feels divine

And yet, it could seemingly all be a lie

How can something with so many rules and regulations be stress free?
And yet I’m stimulated mentally, as if reading a whole book on philosophy
Each page intriguing me with every turn
I just hope one day it doesn’t set fire and completely burn

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Late Graduation

Going through Primary School, Secondary School, College and University

To suddenly hit regression

To deal with our actual realisations of the world and ourselves

The curse of knowledge can often make one mad and lonely, often carrying our faces in shame, away from supposed loved ones who show no love anyway and disown our name, for we are too bereft of love to be of convenience.

The shame of our life’s failures fuelling our madness and disgrace

 

Pain in knowing those who share similar energies and hearts to us also have problems on the brain. Demons that they chase in vain often their driving force to being sane.

A pain that penetrates the membrane and sometimes manifests itself in the physical realm

 

But there is always that lone stranger.

The one that sees your pain and madness and talks to you whilst sorting out his life’s laundry.

 

This doesn’t take away from the shame but forces you to be proud of it. To wear your scars instead of being plagued by them, so those who spoke in disdain or held their faces in disgrace of you are the same ones to give your fight the energy it needs to be won.

And after the emotional turmoil

After all is said and done

We get down on our knees and cry into our guiding mother’s lap

For all the torture and pain still bore pain

 

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Loving with your eyes closed

Constantly inebriated
To the point your loved ones become a target for that internal hate you try to drink away

So you try to be extra careful with your lover
The vulnerable type, just like you

But you have the privilege of being a bitch in your drunken behaviour, yet you embrace your lover with your eyes closed, thinking anything goes as long as I don’t hurt you

But you did.

You hurt them so bad
Stubbing a cigarette on both their eyelids, telling them how they see the world isn’t important

And so you’ve done it. You’ve become that abusive parent/lover/carer, the internal hatred slipped out and made you hate yourself

The social abuse and revenge attacks feel like light work in comparison to feelings of guilt rising like bile from your belly to your throat.

What the fuck is sorry in the face of your own inequities.

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The Loves: Part Two

Diagnosis 3

The kind of love that sucks and drains you

Like a vampire after your blood.

Consumed in a venus fly-trap.

Your love seeps out of your fingertips.

Your eyes

Your lips

Even as the very breath leaves you

The love leaves too

 

A driving force on its own

Creating on its own.

Creating and destroying powerful bonds across the universe.

 

Licking at your legs like the fire of hell once it leaves you.

So-o good

 

Love soo good it feels like a sin worthy of committing

 

Starving yourself of food and water

In hopes this love will sustain you

Though it controls you

 

You relinquish all power to it the moment you realised it flowed through you

 

This love is like a spirit

 

Like a Siren

 

Calling the possessor of this love to their death

Leading them into the Abyss

Into the den of the wolf, created for their death

 

 

Diagnosis 4

The love as delicate and as beautiful as a rose made of ice

glistening with vulnerability and genteelity.

 

Yet the ice proves to be diamonds.

The hardest rock known to the common man

Only manipulated by high raging temperatures.

Much like when we make love.

 

Our Blood boiling like lava

As if to create a diamond then and there

Deep within us

 

Burning too hot, forming too hard and fast

Creating a beautiful hardness within us

for fear of a beauty like that will never consume us again

 

Hard as a rock

As beautiful as a diamond

Yet still so cold, once all the lava and fervour is gone.

 

Left feeling alone and abandoned

Like a floating poler icecap

Isolated from the rest of its property.

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The Gathering: Hopeful Farewell

As the sun rises

Wiping the warmth and the comfort of the moon from the sea

 

The mermaids disperse or sink further into the abyss

An attempt to hide all their sins

 

I drag myself through the waves

The sun transitioning my Siren’s locs to the braids of a Bride

My lips losing the lifeless lust of the underlife

Only to be replaced with the innocent ruse of stability

 

My wedding dress, white but soiled, reminds me of this burden of strife

Of safety of my sanity

 

The vows of love I promise to myself

 

I look back at the ocean of my Jaded sisters and secretly pray they swim or sink safely, to their heart’s content and with the cynical smile of positivity

 

But for now my costume of seaweed must be put away.

 

For I have decided to become married to the forest

So my wreath of Ivy will never go to waste

 

Instead it shall be a connection, a reminder of all that I had swam through

A reminder of all the souls I toyed with

And of the emptiness that had lain within the depths of my own

 

A lagoon so deep no man would have successfully gone through it.

 

Yet as my adorned ankles feel the dew of the Earth around it

The Siren in me laughs, for She knows of my addiction and how I could so easily once again fall prey to.

 

For I am a victim too.

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The Gathering: Consuming Seas

As the moonlight hits the dark inked ocean of my mind and memories

Deep in that sea, under the stars of the night

The fellow mermaids meet.

 

Sirens created through the pain of abuse; shaping and moulding them simultaneously into beauties

 

Now they wear their crowns of thorns and emotional disdain with little to no shame

 

My own crown, made of Ivy, so green it becomes blue or black, if you see me clearly

The Lilies of another mermaid’s wreath comfort me

In our pain we know beauty, but never peace or sleep

For it is when we are full of our sorrows that we return to the curse which is this ocean

Calling out in our pain; yet our vulnerability draws the lust of men

 

In hope that their souls can bring us some worth

Many of us fight as Mermaids for their lusts

 

But as dawn draws near, we often remember the plight of the Siren is already a lost cause

 

So we toy with our prey instead

 

Taking bits and bits of their Freedom, till their weaknesses are exposed and they have no more worth

 

But soon, when the motherly affection of the moon hits the ocean once again, you’ll see the ocean in all its doom and hear our beautiful cries calling you to your death.

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Haven in the Dirt

I crave your addictive touch

Who would have thought weaning myself off of you would have proved so rough

My back arches in readiness when I think of your name

Imagining what it would be like to call out your name

Yet it’s more than just the touch…

It’s the journey I should be writing of

The journey of the unloved and forgotten that found a haven in somewhere derilect and non forgiving

We are not too familiar in our touch but that’s because our senses are heightened

Over affection is an unnecessary token

For when it comes to it, our passion can smother

Any repression or aggression that the world may reap

It’s always with solace our parts meet

The secret smiles and the little squeezes

Soon become virile and passion ridden bodies, ready to explode with evidence of the true nature of our freak

These feelings, this freak.

Unbeknown before you met me.

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