If What I Do

If what I do is evil,
So be it, I’m damned.
For the feelings I get and give,
Are none but mine, through my hands.
If what I do is sacrilegious,
So be it, I’m judged.
For nothing hardens my resolve,
Than being her slave knelt in her cuffs.
If what I do is profane,
So be it, I’m fucked.
For I’ll not change an iota from now,
I’m me, bound I’ll not budge.

Imagine The Possibilities

I guess I’m a little broken,
But I suppose you are too.
Imagine the possibilities,
What two imperfectionistas could do?
We look at the world differently,
Our perspectives perfectly skewed.
Seeing what the right in the world,
Couldn’t because that’s what they choose.
I guess we’re a little different,
Unique, but a pair, one not two.
And we’ll live in a world of make believe,
Making imagination come querkely true.


A day dozing,
Dreaming of you.
A day depressed,
Sick too.
But looking at your pictures,
Helped the day pass.
Wishing I was well enough,
To spank your pretty arse.
So, when the bugs die,
I’ll be good as new.
I’ll have the energy,
To do what we do.
But for now I’m dozing,
Still dreaming of you.
Dreaming of the good things,
That will get me through.