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Whispered Smoke
11 July 2014 @ 02:16 am
i miss your wine.

i miss the taste of you,
your nectar,
rejuvenating my being
like honey from the gods.

i miss the flick of your tongue,
savoring every drop of me,
of my wine,
addicted to my candied skin,
drawn to my tang,
the bitterness flooded your senses
when i allowed you to bite,
when i allowed you within,
when i allowed you to taste all of me.
yet,
you found me a delicacy,
a wanton for your moral soul,
the snare which pulled you towards
my shameless body
arching towards
your wine
your lips
your lust.

i fed off it.
the succubus,
the lover,
the fiend.

i fed off you,
every touch,
fingers brushed over breasts,
round, ready, and aroused.

i fed off you,
your fingers between my legs,
your heart between my thighs,
your soul between my lips.

i fed off you,
you and your wine,
your nectar,
i fed and i gained life,
i fed and i gained strength,
i fed and i gained confidence.

i fed and i gained you,
consumed you
until you were nothing,
until you were gone,
until you were barely an image in my mind,
leaving only slight recollection,
your wine,
your tongue,
your lust.

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Whispered Smoke
03 July 2014 @ 10:24 pm
gliding lips
across my sin.
vibrations still my bones,
muscles twitch,
nerves on fire,
heart pounding,
brain...
gone,
but bones,
deep down within my marrow.
bones,
my essence lay frailly within.
the heart full of cracks,
crumbling shards
ready to inflict pain
to those who break past
the barbed wire that is my skin.
the heart hides.
the mind,
logistically,
chaotically,
skeptically
denies you of you.
the mind lies.
but the bones,
oh the bones,
they lie still,
they wait
as words nuzzle your soul,
hands caress the barbed wire,
lovingly,
gently,
soothing it into smooth metal.
the bones wait,
they listen
as tongues lay silent,
gasping for the other's air,
basking in the ability to survive
on the other alone.
the bones wait,
they wait until all is still,
they wait for that moment,
that one
single
moment,
when mind, heart, soul, and bones
all lie as one,
that moment when truth
becomes louder than
crushed moans,
tempest screams,
or aching needs
could ever be.
that moment when all is still
and all that's left is peace.

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Whispered Smoke
31 December 2013 @ 12:01 am
inside
out.
skin dissipates, bones
on view to break, with words
or worse,
silence.
fragile to your strength, fortitude
upon my heart, living
beat upon beat outside my chest.
blood drips slowly
to the ground, the warmth
liquifies the glass beneath our feet,
shattering
the desolate arteries
controlling your brain.

inside
out.
movement ripples
below the surface of my veins.
my living,
breathing,
being
exposed to you,
open to your
discerning glare,
picking me apart
cell by cell, until
all that is left...

...air.

allowing life,
never seen,
always there.


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Whispered Smoke
14 November 2013 @ 03:16 pm
words sounded false
creativity faltered,
gave way to insecurities,
things that killed my heart,
altered my being,
made me...
...lost.
 
 
Whispered Smoke
14 November 2013 @ 03:03 pm
a monster is in my closet
claws tear through weakened wood
sounds of anger roar through my ears
it rears it’s beautiful head
smashing everything i’ve come to be
it scares away the insecurities
it lifts itself up
and throws itself down
crumbling the ground beneath my feet
and parachutes me
to oblivion
to the land beyond the land
immortal majesties,
terror before my eyes
i cower in the corner
the monster forces me to survive
to see beyond the eye
to feel beyond the lust
it forces life into me

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Whispered Smoke
14 November 2013 @ 01:09 pm
webs  
building within me,
brick by brick,
poison drawing deep
within the backbone of my being.
wilting,
a mind of perfect clarity,
thrusting webs of lust
to set me free,
tangling me as breath
struggles to live
within my soul.

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Whispered Smoke
14 November 2013 @ 12:58 pm
I've been drawing inspiration from other poems, hopefully this will get me going and I will eventually no longer need to grab inspiration from others. I'd rather draw inspiration from my feelings. Feel free to critique.
 
 
Whispered Smoke
14 November 2013 @ 12:36 pm
sexuality,
a tool.
hiding behind bare breasts,
hardened nipples,
soft moans,
spread thighs.
hidden feelings
behind bedroom eyes
and
grabbing hands.
yet,
a tool
becomes a fear.
insecurities
become reality.
jumping too fast,
falling too hard,
hide it
behind pictures of lust,
moments of intimacy
that may not really exist.
regret.
qualms about pathos
building up inside,
bubbling over,
exploding into everyday life,
rush to take it back,
to disappear,
to find sexuality,
to use it as a tool,
distraction,
dispair.
worry,
that sex is all that is there.

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Whispered Smoke
12 November 2013 @ 05:44 pm
liquid scorched my throat,
cleansing every thought within my head,
down to the blistering feelings within my belly.
inebriating all that i want,
creating a new desire,
a new lust,
a need for this lush,
to live
or die,
to free me
from the tanglements of the heart.
to unlove,
as no one has been proficient enough to do.
to unlove,
as only this drink can do.
and liquid sails down to the pits,
fire burning wildly in it’s wake,
but one more shot
and i’ll feel it less.

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Whispered Smoke
12 November 2013 @ 05:43 pm
red drips down my soul
tangling my dna with the turbulence
of your mind,
static,
friction,
agitation of the manacle holding us together.

yet,
we attempt to fly.

a single strand of snugness
tied loosely to a falling star.

the impact
tearing organs and limbs from within our warmth,
throwing hearts and heads, legs and finger tips,
into a pile.

each piece
uncertain of where they should exist,
a puzzle with a slightly off-putting fit.

we lay in silence,
the blue from my heart,
pooled around our immortality,
the red from my soul,
seeped into our bodies,
the tears from your torment,
fuse it all to one.

and yet,
the manacle holds strong,
as our bodies erupt.

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