Tag Archives: Sex

You see a smile upon my face
And think I’m in a happy place,
But you can’t see what lurks beneath my skin.

Like cancer creeping through my bones
My heart no longer holds its own,
The darkness fills my being from within.

I don’t show pain in public much
For sympathy is such a crutch
And I don’t want to be seen as depressed.

But when I’m in a room alone
Such sadness like I’ve never known
Sweeps over me and will not let me rest.

The sadness that I feel inside
Takes all the joy, casts it aside
And leaves me wallowing in bitter strife.

So I stand on the precipice
And stare into the black abyss
That wants to pull me in and take my life.

You see me now this crumpled shell
And here you thought you knew me well,
My pain apparent now for you to see.

So will you take me in your arms?
Protect me from my own self-harms?
Or let me wallow in this agony?

Can your love make me feel all right
A beacon in the dead of night
Bring me back to the safety of the shore?

Or will you miss my outstretched hand
And leave me collapsed on the sand,
To die alone, unhappy evermore?

 

 

 

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Do you want to play a game with me?

Let my body be the board…

Your fingers the pieces…

Your lips the dice…

And there are no rules for where you move.

 

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Driving down a dusty road at dusk, it’s time to stop
My eyes are growing weary as they follow the blacktop.
The tears are causing prisms as they well up in my eyes
If I were to be in a wreck it’d come as no surprise.

Now up ahead I see a sign and I choose to pull in,
The neon from the diner draws tattoos upon my skin.
The parking lot is empty but for three late model cars,
And dust upon their bodies shimmers brightly like the stars.

The bell above the door rings softly as I step inside,
Not many there to see the tears upon my cheeks have dried.
There’s not a lot of clientele, and so I take a seat
Upon a tattered stool I take the load off of my feet.

The waitress brings a coffee pot and motions to the cup,
I nod and watch the ember liquid as it fills it up.
I curl my fingers round the mug and stare into the dark,
The tears are welling up again, for you have made a mark.

I never drink my coffee black, so now I add some cream,
And then a pack of sugar that dissolves into the steam.
And as I stir the sugar in I feel a tight, sharp pain
For everything that could have been if it were not profane.

I miss your touch upon me when I wake up in the dawn,
Your caress and your whispers that would always turn me on.
The strength of your libido as we’d fuck the day away,
And yet somehow I didn’t have the impetus to stay.

I think about the love we shared and what I’ve left behind,
The way you used to fuck me; our libidos intertwined.
I miss the things you’d tell me that would make me feel so good,
I want to have you back again and be the way we should.

My coffee’s almost finished and my stomach feels full,
I have half a mind to turn back as I feel your longing pull.
I take another mouthful and I grimace at the grounds
What’s left is just the bitterness, as crazy as that sounds.

I leave a tip and go outside and climb into my car,
My heart is torn but going back would be just too bizarre.
I wipe my eyes and start my car, and drive into the night,
My life is like my coffee cup, now empty, but all right.

 

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Wow – the 300th prompt for Wicked Wednesday! That’s absolutely amazing.

Three hundred is a lot – You could:

– Have an orgasm lasting 300 seconds
– Enjoy foreplay and sex for 300 minutes a day
– Spend 300 hours having sex in a week
– Have an orgasm 300 days of the year
– Make it a goal to have 300 weeks with oral sex at least once (that happens to be just over 69 months)
– Spend 300 months being in love

Here’s to another 300!

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