Biting tongue or licking one?

Do I have some nerve?

Telling you how I feel

When I observe…?

The pleasure I feel

When I look at you

If I could, I would

Shower you with praise 

All day, everyday

Until you’re as wet as I am

Must I ground my enthusiasm?

Bite my tongue?

Hold onto my feelings…

‘Am I just a cock to you?’

You don’t know

And now I don’t 

via Daily Prompt: Observe

Less of a face/More of a disgrace

Can you look at how it feels?

Take a peek beneath…

Godless and graceless

A confirming wink

Down it breaks

Before the breakdown

The disorder of the mind

The tsunami of thought droppings

Snapping in half my toothpick cocktail umbrella

Like the opposite of a made bed

I’ve become less of a face

More of a disgrace

Faceless

via Daily Prompt: Faceless

My Ashes Scattered

Your hand Stifles my moan

The words I would speak

My body’s song

Now I am lying in wait

For your return

My face to the sky

Absorbing its downpour

The dust is settling

Or is it pieces of me, of you?

That I feel…

Crashing down

Like those waves

Pretending we are the mavericks

Pretending that we are the swell

via Daily Prompt: Stifle

Atmospheric Indeed

Myopia has brought a dystopia
Pleasure or pain
I feel no difference
It’s all the same
Hoping for something more
Tricking myself I still have a core
My eyelids screen a sort of sex utopia
Squirting her release
I’m a wounded warrior and a sick voyeur
Can you hear me cry my love?
It’s me…not that purple dove
Hoping for something else…
Only tightens the noose around my neck
It’s very atmospheric indeed
Specs of me, traces of old-gold
Breaking my perfect mold
Floating into the ethereal
Without knees to kneel

Swan Song On Repeat

Deadly revolutions

Over and again

Again and over

A tour en le’air

Held in the shadows

Of my doubts

A Cacophony with no rhyme

Pains me without any reason

Oh how vile…my hidden odile!

Her plumes of black

Seducing my sanity

As she pirouettes into my heart

Toe drilling for my poison

Releasing our ritual of reverence

via Daily Prompt: Cacophony

Recoiled

Recoiled barbs still cut the same

Fly by night? …or flying in the night?

I sting like a butterfly!

I float….like a bee!

I’m not who you see at all

And it fills my soul with shame

You’re holding onto the string of my kite

But, you’re looking at the ground…not at the sky

I’m stuck in the wire, can you see me?

In the calm…before the squall