Nightlife

Time is as time was
Time will always be.
Glossing shadows
Coy smiles
Is that all that we could be?
Such fickle creatures, you and I
He, she, and we.
Bellow the cries of what lies behind
The standards and the truth.
As want is as want was
With innocence in between.
How do we change the stiff and the stoked
If there is no inbetween?
How do we revive all the desecrated graves
When our ancestors remain blind to their sins?
We are who we are —
An amalgamation of curiosity and pain.
Where there’s no longer hope in the cries of babes
And no true god to cleanse our sins.
We are who we were —
Burning through the night.
There’s no end to this
No end to us
We’re just setting fire to the night.
Some hoping
Some looking on in disgust.
Still, we are how we’ve always been
Trudging through the night.

Faded

He’s in my head again.
The pain, the longing, it’s here again.
And he knows.
When will it end?
He’d all but consumed me then.
His scent,
His smile,
His sins…
They all stuck around like a second skin.
He’s in my dreams.
Always a little too far.
I’ll always want the taste of him.
Will I grow?
It’s forever a strange thing,
How much I yearn and crave just a bit more of him.
Does he know?
He’ll stay in my head and then…
Who knows?

Desire

Tell me your secrets and I will show you mine.
The ones that replace words with writhes and moans that cross all kinds of lines.
I will, if you wish, give a taste to define —
All the naughty things that cross my mind.
No feather-like kisses and delicate tongue,
No sheets to slither on or tempered wants.
I like pain with my pleasure — to give and to get.
I want to be ripped apart and my pulsing appetite kept whet.
Blindside me with brazen hands, nails and teeth,
Let me be the filler of your darkest needs.
They say the darker the desire, the deeper the cuts,
But I’ll devour it all and bear the marks with pride.
Simply satiate the source of the constant pulse between my thighs.

Existential Crisis?

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When it’s quiet, really quiet, I feel the echoes of my existence bleeding through my skin.
I try to stay still – no breathing, no thinking – just floating.
Maybe that will keep it at bay.
It usually does for a little while.
Not often though.
The heavy feeling of my breath, my heartbeat-
The fact that I am here in this moment (this space) is something that has always haunted me.
Does it haunt you too?
Do you want to pause your existence and not feel, not touch, not smell, not want…?
These moments are my torture – my masochistic thrill,
For, if I do not feel the weight of my existence, how do I know that i’m alive?