The Rest Of Them.

Remember how I understood you?

When your mouth was full,

Of weed smoke and jelly beans,

And the rest of the people,

Had no idea what you’d said?

Remember how I came to get you?

When your city was burning,

You tried to sleep through to death,

And the rest of the people,

Asked not after your well-being?

Remember those stupid promises?

Made to each other like idiots,

How they’ve filled my heart with regrets,

And the rest of the people,

Walk by me holding hands and laughing.

The Wrapping Up of Such Sadness.

It’s been 16 long and theiving months of it all; and now that it’s over and my mama has passed away, it feels like a dream: halfway surreal and traumatic, and halfway a street that’s enveloped by fog too thick to navigate.

It’s over.

It’s over.

All I can say is that it’s over.

..and the torment is wrapped up. My mama has lost the fight.

Kink.

Eyes, locked that never leave my thighs, as I pass by –

parade-rested – ideas nested deeply in your mind;

let stand: up your man, hands down, at your sides;

don’t feel shy – or try to hide –

let those savage instincts over-ride;

Hold, molten to your soul in solid gold, the coveted prize –

cradled tightly – carried brightly by the iris of your eye;

follow me: into Ecstasy, and let your body be satisfied;

don’t act blind – let me ease your mind –

just undress and find your way inside;

Sweat, drips salty-wet, drop erotic tears, in my eyes –

legs shaking – an undertaking of the most pleasant type;

climax; then relax, let your wind fill the skies;

you can unwind – this suits us both fine –

forget the details you’ve been scratching to find;

Time, passes along before I am gone into the dark of night –

softly scented and slightly resented for loving your body so right;

let be: the naked memory, lit up golden in the firelight;

don’t think me unkind – it’s a bad habit of mine –

to leave before it becomes Me to be left behind.

Just a One-Page-Entry.

We…
you and me…
it turned out –
not quite so,
meant to be.

Feet…
carry me…
right on by –
the desire,
for familiarity.

Me…
I’m angry…
at the truth –
and the lies,
so eye-opening.

See…
the humanity…
finally drain –
of these veins,
I stand empty.

Be…
my history…
more vague –
with each day,
a memory.

Buried.

It was just last week,
he claimed “now, more than before”…
that his heart stood true.

In reality,
there’s me, and at least one more…
what am I to do?

Unsurprisingly,
all the drama is a bore…
unbecoming, too.

So don’t tread on me,
you are not a King, anymore…
I’d have followed you.

It hurts me to think,
of the dreams of mine and yours…
buried in our youth.

Now – decidedly,
it’s time to let those dreams go…
and sleep with the truth.

Kink.

Eyes, locked that never leave my thighs, as I pass by –

parade-rested – ideas nested deeply in your mind;

let stand: up your man, hands down, at your sides;

now, don’t be shy – don’t try to hide –

just let your savage instincts override;

Hold, molten to your soul in solid gold, the coveted prize –

cradled tightly – carried brightly by the iris of your eye;

follow me: into Ecstasy, and let your body be satisfied;

so, don’t act blind – let me ease your mind –

just undress and find your way inside;

Sweat, drips salty-wet, drop erotic tears, in my eyes –

legs shaking – an undertaking of the most pleasant type;

climax; then relax, let your wind fill the skies;

you can just unwind – this suits us just fine –

forget the devilish detail you’ve been searching to find;

Time, passes along before I am gone into the dark of night –

softly scented – slightly resented for loving your body so right;

let be: the naked memory, fire-lit and golden in the throes tight;

oh, don’t think me unkind – it’s a habit of mine –

to promptly leave before I get left behind.