Vain, I am shallow and selfish, against my own will.
Fooling myself, I deny my own instincts in matters of love and lust, who knows the difference even.
My vanity won’t allow me to love absent of lust, for it is lust that I love most.
Swimming in ecstasy my lover and I, we drain ourselves, panting and loathing beneath my private abode. Then…as time drags on I become weary as my lust fade…so does my love and my vanity won’t allow me to remain.
So, anew I seek. Spreading my net wide to capture another lover.
How can I be satisfied?
As distance grows between my former I think of she from time to time but my memories are filled with lust.
Sparked!
My vanity once again awakens my lustful intent…If only I can capture that moment again. I wonder.
But I dare not attempt. I have already scorned and torn her. Now she lays new ground finally thankful to receive some peace in my welcomed absence…
I just want to run naked through your mind. Swim through your hair before sliding down your temple and finding a bench within your earlobe. Give me the nod and backwards I will fall into you. I will fall into you. Gooey Ozzy Messy you. Dirt first. Grit first. Torment first. In your vile mediterranean I will lay and get to know you.
Genre: Love, Relationship, Romance
MESS by Damilola K Fashola
I just want to run naked through your mind. Swim through your hair before sliding down your temple and finding a bench within your earlobe. Give me the nod and backwards I will fall into you. I will fall into you. Gooey Ozzy Messy you. Dirt first. Grit first. Torment first. In your vile mediterranean I will lay and get to know you. What they all ran away from I will make love to and we will fight our demons together… Lie to me. Lie with me. Lie in my arms. Let us become liars who lie together. Your a mess and I love it. I’m a mess to. Can we be friends? Can we be more than friends? Nah I’ll probably mess it up and we’d become a big mess like one of the pieces of my life lying on the floor you just walked over. I’m tryna tell you something. I’m tryna tell you something deeper than me. And already you’ve hurt my feelings and I’m here taking it more personal than I should. I’m becoming emotional. I’m being emotional. Sorry I get that way at times. Thats just the peak of my flaws and no its not because I have a vagina but I’m human just like you and though you’re taught not to be expressive about it… I no you feel. I know it hurts sometimes and you have no one to call on and sometimes you try to call out but your voice is lost under sniggers and suppressed thoughts of not being allowed to. Your allowed to. Around me you’re allowed to be you. Flaws and all. I promise not to use them against you. Though I’m blunter than your average. So I might… without knowing so and for that, I ask you to forgive me now. If we’re ever gonna work that is. Do you want us to work. Maybe we shouldn’t.. Your a mess, I’m a mess. two messes…
Four:
If I told you that I want all of this to be like this thirty years from now,
Would you call me hopeful, or stupid?
Do you think we’ll stay? Or will one of us go?
If I get lost,
I hope to go in a circle,
And wind up back with you.”
Genre: Nostalgia, Wanderlust, Youth, Love, and Melancholy
Planting Seeds by Abu B. Rafique
One:
Sometimes I wonder, if I’m remembering something hard enough, are you remembering it too?
It’s like smoke now, slightly sweet,
And overwhelming,
And enough to make me dizzy if there’s too much.
I saw you in your pale yellow sundress with a tired smile on your face,
And the sun setting around us filled the sky with a pink light that made you shimmer as you walked,
I wished then that I didn’t have to leave anymore.
You and I walked two miles up the dirt road to your home,
And you showed me your grandfather’s apple trees,
You asked where I was going and then told me where you would like to go.
I remember the smell of,
Apples,
Your perfume,
And the candles inside.
You gave me a necklace before I left and you seemed to understand.
I’ve met many since then, but none seem to UNDERSTAND.
I think of you,
Often.
Two:
Where should we go?
Should we go,
North? To Canada?
Or west? To California?
Maybe south? To Georgia?
Should we live up in the mountains?
Out in the desert?
In a lonely cabin?
Does it have to be “we?”
You can stay,
I don’t like me, so I’ll go.
And keep going.
Maybe, eventually, I’ll be able to get away,
Maybe not.
I guess I’ll go,
And find out.
Three:
You sit there in your denim jacket,
And black jeans,
And black boots,
And colorful hairbands on your fingers,
With your hair tied back in a ponytail.
And you want to give a chance,
And get a chance,
And stop pushing away,
Or running away from,
Everyone who tries to love you.
Four:
If I told you that I want all of this to be like this thirty years from now,
Would you call me hopeful, or stupid?
Do you think we’ll stay? Or will one of us go?
You see he was better finding things on his victims to play with drawn to find there’s not much less of perfect on the face of a Disney princess. He loved Ariel’s tail you see, he was so infatuated by the slimy scales the way they ripped and tore against the cold touch of sharp metal steel that he loved oh so much to bury deep into the flesh of a struggling victim, Ariel did just that for him, struggle. He ripped her hair out bit by bit… it was seductive to him. He started far before she was dead so you could see the pain that painted across her canvas face, it was a masterpiece to Michael.
Genre: Dark, Life, Society
Michael Myers And The corps of five Disney princess
by Drew Price
You see he was better finding things on his victims to play with drawn to find there’s not much less of perfect on the face of a Disney princess. He loved Ariel’s tail you see, he was so infatuated by the slimy scales the way they ripped and tore against the cold touch of sharp metal steel that he loved oh so much to bury deep into the flesh of a struggling victim, Ariel did just that for him, struggle. He ripped her hair out bit by bit… it was seductive to him. He started far before she was dead so you could see the pain that painted across her canvas face, it was a masterpiece to Michael.
He worked his way over to princess Jasmine. He’d stripped her of all her clothes and she lay naked, but not in a sexual way, no, he wanted to see the blood pour from her body as he skinned her like an animal because he just loved her complexion. He loved the thick yet subtle curve of her eyebrows they made him smile, something he hadn’t done in a while. He loved pulling on her hair until her scalp began to bleed but only while she was alive so he could hear the horror in her scream like the first drop on a roller coaster, he liked it that way. This rush of electricity, this rush of energy, this torture… for himself and his victims.
He made his way over to Snow White… pale as the moon on a pitch black night he choked her into a blood moon. All slob and tears wet fears that struck her face at a grab of a hand he loved it that way. His hands cold, his hands power his hands blood and breaking bones that enjoyed the feeling of their caving in its palm it was electrifying. The fear reflected off her eyes into his as pure amazement, how much power he had over these beautiful women.
He next turned to princess Tiana. She seemed the most unphased by all the horror she’d seen so he gouged out her eyes for not respecting his art like, “god damn I’ve turned them into masterpieces only god can reconstruct and you show no interest how dare you” she sat in the presence of a terrifying man but she sat paralyzed in strength no scream until the harsh textures of his fingers met the back of her eyelid like a tight grip on a fast ball. She called on every god that came to mind like “Oh god, sweet Buddha, baby Jesus god of the tress and the bees the land I stand on god of the earth mother earth, somebody, help me!” Somebody hear her cry. This man he watched her die in one quick sigh she had her last breath like the pain was too much so she had her last breath like she couldn’t play strong right before that last breath, like in that last breath you’d heard her curse this man and curse those hands all cold and blood bone breakers like the end all power reigned through this man and.. At this moment it did.
He made his way over to Rapunzel. He loved the length of her hair how it curved down her back the mystery in her stare not being able to tell whether she was dead or alive, but the twitch in her left eye showed she could feel it all. Every cut and rip every slap and hit he like to see how red she could get. He hung her upside down and played in her hair until the blood in her body dripped through her nostrils and eyes dying her hair a cherry tone.
So that was his story. He took pleasure in the horror of torture.
She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions
Genre: Dark, Death and Hurt
Reflection by Barbara Hunt
Darkness shadows and fear flash there jagged teeth towards her
She disappears as the dark abyss swallows her whole As she sits alone heart breaks with her soul filled with emotions
She looks at herself in the mirror and sees not herself but the dead girl smile back she shatters the mirror and drops to the floor uttering her name in the silence
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