love blossoming between “just friends”,
I like thinking what could be,
lift my spirits up again and again,
not telling it all, but finding little bits about you,
I feel so loved when you write to me,
Nothing can hurt me,
except maybe you on the last page of this story.
Title: your dick in another I loved you but you fucked another. Does it make you feel good to mistreat me. Does it make you feel good to hurt me. And disregard my feelings. What am I a doormat, not … Continue reading
Title: We all wear the dress
I like to be fingered through my summer dresses, the feel of that thin fabric on my skin. I like a man who cross-dresses, we can both put on lipstick and fuck. I want to lift up his skirt and suck his cock. So big and thick with compared to that tiny skirt. I think that is how woman can look so great clothed, the small outfits accentuating their tits, arse and hips. And men I think should so the same, a sunny hat, and a summery dress.
Title: Wanting more
Cute girl I am, sitting on a dick
I wish you had more legs to lick and body parts to sit on,
To slide into me and hide in my dark places,
The sun is shining, my little hole is tiny,
But the feeling is so large,
Cum on my face, that bad taste,
I will lick it all up,
You are my god, and thanks for the fuck.
Title: vanilla
What goes up, must come down,
I am dominant, you are a sub,
You arse must go up, so I can come down on you,
Its physics, physical forces working together,
Find the opposing forces in you and me.
Title: freckle on her chest
I head into this small town,
I look hard at it all, the many lives that must have lived here,
But gone and lost, nowhere to be found,
I talk to you behind the counter,
I don’t know why I stopped here but I am glad I found her,
After work, you lead me to a place to stay, take care of me, in your nurturing way,
You stroke my cock eyes on me, you know how to care, you know what to do,
You open your shirt, breast in a white bra,
It’s a the rusted hinge, tears within,
A memory had, sun on my hat, but the day doesn’t warm my heavy heart,
Close to you, under the fabric, your freckled skin,
I smile here, crowded in despair
I like to think of myself as a lion,
sitting out in the dirt looking majestic as.
Stopping to lick my nuts,
because cats are weird,
that is what cats do.
majestic and weird.
If I was a menu item I would be an entrée of Nepalese Momos.
I like to think of food as a stage production the warm up act (entrée), followed by the ‘Main’ show.
As Entrée I am the first act for this lovely evening.
Though I’m not just a ‘warm’ up act, I’m better fried.
I was born for this role tonight,
From your very first bite, I am simply a delight.
Giggle at my name, I am here to put other dumplings to shame,
I am Cleaver, simple I’d agree,
Mince chicken, red onion, coriander,
but tasteless? I say Never!
Like any good host I make sure to greet all my seated guest before the main act
See me dance from table to table as I am offered around the room.
Finally I make my way to yours,
Smelling green chilli, ginger, garlic
good service is no fable,
“Call me Momo, I say” I’ll be your Entrée for this evening. “Momo is my name, and flavour is my game.”
Is that an accent you hear. I say “ah what a keen ear.”
“I was born in the back room over there, but I have a rich history elsewhere,
with turmeric, cumin spilling flavours of the south east Asian mountains,
ideas all the way from Nepal,.”
Admiring me now stuffed in a neat wonton jacket ,
Filled to delight, at the start of your night,
Good on my own better with a sauce, but you know that of course.
Why do I want to be an entrée you say?
The first on stage, the fresh crowd, heighten the excitement, set the mood for the night.
After me you know you are in for a good evening.
I am class, an art piece each part of me shaped to be admired
I have a few jokes up my sleeve; don’t be alarmed, I’m 100% good taste,
An so I take my bow with your final bite,
too you and your company, I bid you a good night.
a taste just enough to have the wanting more.
Who knows this humble entrée might make an encore.
Title: not worth it
I hope everything of yours is gone. You gross me out. I feel bad that I let you into my life, but now I have stripped back everything you touched and thrown it in to be washed. Including myself. Scrubbing away, until I do not feel your presents again.
Title: Reading nook
I am proud of my books, all lined up neatly along my window nook. Books from my travels, books I have reread, books on my list to read. But now with technology, my books are becoming obsolete. Ebooks are easy and I can always take it with me. I will cherish my time I had spent with my books, and will continue to read them and more. The future is now.
Title: 1969
I am transported back to a time where things seemed a bit more free and easily.
The thriving see life of the tropics. In all its beauty be cast of as cheap in the right light.
I sit back at a friends place and complain about how the world has passed me by, drongos following me around, making my wallet run dry.
I am tired trying to look collected in my shades.
I want to be free follow the coastline, feel the waves beneath my dingy.
The sand so calm, the stepping back onto land after a long boat ride.
I feel alive. Life is simple away from the masses.
There is no one around to help, but also no one around to hinder.
A little girl below the jetty, pretty and blonde, I wonder what her name is I wonder what she is doing down there.
In time I think things will reveal themselves.
But for now I need some time on my own, in a room of ones own.
This place is a mess, I need to clean it out before I undress.
My dog sniffs out trouble, but I am thinking elsewhere.
The sea so blue in the background, makes me feel small.
This is not a bad thing I must understand, it is there to help me deal with my thoughts, turn my big head into something small.
Title: done with purpose.
Easier to write than to do.
For in my thoughts I can make anything happen.
I can make the sky turn blue, bring me to you.
I can make my homework done in a flash, And my past and future rewrite itself.
But I do not feel the accomplishment I would feel if I had done it for real,
Maybe I am just not imagining hard enough.
Title: The back of my mind
Trapped in my mind. I wanted to see what was inside, really dig deep and see what I hide. But now that I am here the door has closed the water filling in. I am washed away into a part that I am not familiar with. I know it is me, but now I begin to wonder. So deep in my thoughts I have travelled. Now trying to find my way out. Colours rich and glowing, blues and greens, thick jungle surronds me, I have not been this far before, and I am beginning to scare myself. These thoughts are so primal, so exotic, so forgine to me. But here they are they must be mine. I am told we only use 10% of our brain, I feel as though I have travelled deeper than that, thick sludge around my feel. In my mind, somehow I am not alone.
Title: Up late at the hippie convent.
I like this place, they have good food, an alacrt menu. And yeah everyone is volunteers, it sounds amazing, I do like that I can find a seat easily. I want to chat about it but at the same time, I don’t like sharing to much as I think it will get ruined maybe… maybe not. Which would be a good thing as it is so easy for my friends and I to get to.
Afrter diner, we sat down on the slopping grass, listened to sheep baa, and watched as hundreds of bats flew over. There were people playing hand drums that have a nice watery sound that I heard a lot in india and other intereremets with one dude dancing to a different beat in his head. I hippie wearing a seahorse around his neck came by and sat down near us. We all chatted for a bit, then he brought up the subject of drugs.
For me, I am okay with other people taking acid, shrooms, extacy and smoking weed. But none of that is for me, I have even stopped drinking recently, I don’t know. Drugs don’t take me to where I want to be, they take me to somewhere sad where I can’t find my way out until it is over. I am a happy idervidual, and drugs do not boost my experience. Even alcohol which I enjoyed on long afternoons chilling with friends, does not have that same effect on me anymore. Maybe I am getting older? Maybe the last parts of my mind are trying feebly to stay sane. Either way, I am okay with the recreational drug culture with social drug use. But it is my choice to say no, every time.
Title: Tears to fall from dry eyes.
We went our separate ways, me ignoring you, you not texting.
But tonight you had to message me, and I did not like it,
I am not ignoring you because I want to be mean, it is every time we hang you get weird,
You are a downer to everything positive I suggest doing, you send me nasty message if I don’t reply when I am at work or school, I am busy sometimes, and you did not understand.
We had very little in common besides sex, Sex is great don’t get me wrong, but if I don’t like you as a person, it is hard to get wet.
And so tonight I will not reply to your text, I will not feel sorry or bad,
My eyes are dry, as tears for you I have never had.
Title: Washing machine
I feel the pain in my tired eyes, my tired hands and wrist,
Lift them up, but feel the weight of the world pushing them down, pushing me around.
I try and stand up, only to slip, to have the ground move beneath me.
I will not let this stop me, I keep on pushing on, putting my energy on trying to compose myself, and stand up straight.
But what is the point? When this is not how to get where I want to be, I need to go with the cycle, go with the flow, be washed away.
I need the water and soap to enter my fabric, to feel drenched, to be cleaned of all my thoughts, and give room to new thoughts, ideas and experiences.
Purge myself of the past, hang me out to dry, colours bleeding, me in my true form. Fabric, frail but ready for anything.
I stand tall on the line, basking in the afternoon sun. I am me, not individual, but I am me, and I will make use of myself to my full potential, Absorb the dirt of the world. By don’t let that get me down, it is okay, I can be cleaned once again.
Title: traveller
Do I love to travel? Or am I told to?
I have travelled a lot in my short time and I hold those memories dear, but the notion of travelling more does not thrill me. I am not filled with a deep desire to research places, I am content working hard at the things I enjoy here in this city.
Previously when I travelled I was searching for something, I had many terrible jobs, felt unloved, and believed strongly that I was somehow missing out. But with my sence of purpose in this world and current work/school life interest I feel that I have found something worth sticking around for.
But travel, will I travel again where to? And for what reason?
There is inequity in how tax is paid here I Australia maybe the world,
Paying off accountants to find loopholes, I’ve earnt it you say?
But let’s think, what is a quick fix, something obvious, something that hurts,
Luxury cars, brought with this money stripped from the community,
Well I would like to stop time, just for one night, venture out with my merry men and women,
Gone in sixty seconds, Nicolas cage style,
Change the deeds from coal miner, you single mother, and average family,
You have worked hard for it, you didn’t even realise you earnt it,
See happy faces driving around town,
It’s yours now, don’t believe me? Here there are no self-awarded crowns.
Title: Mimosa
You seem so much older than me, yet you look 26
You have studied arts, and animal science,
Yet you are very kind. I don’t know how long that will last,
I get nervous and say silly things,
how I react around some, and feel so comfortable around others,
lets just call this practice, and see where it leads,
I know you are good for me, I hope we get along, and bond
Title: Ankle pains
Homework straight after school, Work to be done,
I know I have to do it, but I just want to shower and lie in my bed for fun,
It will be good for me, and I feel I know it too,
But right now my energies are low, and my heart is beating slow,
I am angry at my desk, chair, hands and ankles, they all annoy me, my tired mind.
Siesta maybe?
Title: lyrics
This track is not broken enough for me,
I revel in the pain of a heavy heart,
is this sick, is this wallowing? Is this bad for my health?
I don’t care, I want more, I want to feel the sadness fill me, and spread,
A pain in my chest to match my head,
Sit alone with my thoughts, and when it ends,
Press repeat.
Title: summer sitting
Hidden curl, a secrete I find in you,
Running my fingers through you hair, eyes alive, stare,
Lyrics in the background, garden contrast with your hair,
Freckles on your chest, Its these moments with you I like best,
Title:Pain in my chest
Scared with my blue heart, heavy stone,
Tear out all the vessels and ropes that hold it up,
Let it fall, the pain hurts more than I can say,
BENT ON LOVE 