It’s the afternoon
And, as always, this wakes my hunger up
It begins in glances and smiles
Working its way through to my hands
Longing to touch you
My feet, to take me to you.
Works its way to my tongue longing to taste you
My teeth to bite you and mark you as mine
It spreads to my lips longing to press to the soft and hard parts of you
It spreads electric down to my cock
Pulling it upward in defiance of gravity
Until it’s rock hard, pulsing and warm
It longs for your touch
The feel of your hand
The feel of it entering warm dark places of ecstasy and eloquence
Sliding in like completing a circuit of me and you
Trapped in this eternal moment of hunger
Poems
Dissonant stream of consciousness
I’m staring at a blank screen, starting then stopping, erasing and trying to find words to describe this whirlwind of I don’t know and how to proceed and what am I doing and it’ll all be worth it and am I failing and not getting there and waking up early and she tells me I push and they say that I don’t and I am confused and I am certain and I want to move forward and I don’t know what forward is and it’s either falling apart or coming together and I can’t tell which and I am always strong but I’m not always strength and I seem silent but I need to speak and I don’t have any answers to the questions I ask and I’m waiting and I am impatient and I want the truth and I can’t seem to find it and I break but I’m not broken and I give in to my emotions and I can’t know what is the right time and I am embarrassed by things I can’t change and I hear Sir and I need it and all of this incoherence as I stare at the blank screen
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Disheartened battlecry.
There is a cavalcade of people who love my words and all I want is for someone to love me.
This isn’t a poem. It’s a battle cry. I am my words. My words are who I am. I don’t write poetry about things. I write about what I feel and who I am. I shout it out, hoping for the right people to hear me. To know that I am here and I am real and I am waiting. Trying to figure things out but no where near perfection. Looking for connection and that moment when we are all revealed and nothing is hidden. I hate hiding. If something is coming for me, let it come.
Tell me the truth and never stop telling me. I need it all. Connection is the experiences we share. Not just the words we speak at each other. Conversations are give and take, yes and no, not just me shouting into the darkness.
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Gasping for air
Am I too soon or too late
Stability stanchion
Tie your harness to me
Safe from the maelstrom
Held against the darkness
Let it seep
In controlled bursts
Building immunity
Watching you sleep
Though far from me
A hearts a hard thing to hide
Nor am I very good at it
Not shouting from the rooftops
But great at misreading
I’m left with this churning
As the world sleeps
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A promise to you
Say the word
Say the word
I’ll fly to your side
Heedless the cost
I’ll pay the price
Accept the fallout
Whatever comes
To hold you
To dance
To sing
To whisper my intentions
Say the word
I’ll be there
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A brief pause
Give me a moment
To catch my breathe
To keep it in a jar till morning
To watch it flutter against its cage
To release it
Spent
in the cool dark air
Before the dawn
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Breaking down
Breaking down
Self imposed barriers
Last bastions of sanity
Last soldiers holding the line
Scraping out the lining of bags long closed
Opening doors nailed shut
Breaking down
Remember the pieces that didn’t fit the narrative of self
Remember the fights
Remember being young
Remember being stupid
Remember walking in front of speeding vehicles with a glib phrase and the secret desire to die
Breaking down
Remembering the unkind words and the immediate regret and the silence that followed
two people hurting and hurting each other to feel human for a few minutes before they went back to drowning separately
Remembering trying to be the hero for unheroic reasons
To rescue for the reward instead of to defend this battered soul of youth
Remembering days of loneliness and ache masked behind moments of epiphany
Breaking down
The long slow climb out of oblivion
Out of the things done and not done
out of the pits of what have I done
And the tainted desire for a little more
And the bitter poison fruit of vengeance
In whose seeds bore the sweetness of peace
Trying to save everyone because I could not save her
Waking paranoia because a moments inattention caused a lifetime of pain
Breaking down
There are lifetimes within lifetimes and deaths within deaths. Sometimes change is not enough and what was must be allowed to fade
Breaking down
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How awful to think it
If I could save her, of course I would, of course. It’s easy to say, discounting all the years past that point. Discounting all the changes I made to be a better person.
Of course, I’d go, I’d be there and that would make the difference.
If I could save her I would.
If I could make a different choice
I would
And accept that it means that the man I am now would be annihilated.
All of those experiences that turned me, minute by minute would be destroyed as well.
Of course, I’d save her. Of course.
Knowing how it happened, knowing it all.
Of course, I’d save her. Of course.
And accept that saving her, means dying in her stead. I’d still be breathing but the man I am now would never be. The love I’ve experienced, the people I’ve met, the family I’ve connected with, the goddess of my heart. It all gets snuffed out, turned on the wheel of a choice.
Of course I’d save her
Of course
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Mirage
I’m waiting in this heat
For the spark
To propel me to your side
Revealing all the things I hide
Not in deliberate pose
But from trepidation
Can’t stand the thought
Cause honesty is all I got
Ask me anything
I’ll speak it
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Poetry month is kicking my ass
A stress trigger is a release valve
But this one is a old remnant
One I can’t use
So the pressure builds
Looking for a outlet
Whispering desires
Promises of how great
To not think for awhile
But I’m hers
No one else’s
Pelgris 