BMP15
nzpoetsonline
Angel Random
New Zealand

Dear Sweet delectible taste,
Here is my story.

Two chocolate influenced shadows,
shyly touch,
lost in the bass of a land less known.
Paths crossed, shown,
that mirrored madness was reflected,
in the glimsp I checked you out with.

I shift,
to radiate in your smile for a while,
I drink,
your syrup coated words with ease,
and though the bittersweet taste teases my senses,
I don't open my toffee apple stained mouth to test this,
water,
turned sugar drenched drink.

I sink in the mapped out fatal mind holding me back,
glueing me to the overanalysation of so called reality,
its winter temperature freezing me to the same repetitive excuse,
that I'm never letting go,
and you're never letting go,
and time is never letting go,
of its grasp on my autumn leaf textured shoulder,
crumbling under pressure from my own self,
because my own self,
can't admit to you,
that you got me picked in this dollar mixture.

That I wake up craving the sucrose stained thoughts,
that you leave on my page,

Sincerely with rage,
Addicted...





StenchMouth

Sweat dripped in her eye
She wanted to throw up on his chest
breasts heaved and she retracted that thought
Thought about licking his nipple
Nipples erect like that of his gun
Pull the trigger, wondered why you couldn't come
gave into the temptation of the sensation
of bodily fluids combining as one
he makes her sick, but she'll fuck him anyway...

How many ways can she love you,
Let me count the ways,
One time for the backseat of the car,
the condensation on the window-
no idea where the fuck you are.
Two for the couch, while she was watching CSI
had to change positions coz she got his specimen
in her eye.
Third time lucky, that was in bed-
lost count of how many times he asked for head.

Silence, God she loved it.
But the sight of him makes her vomit.
Sweaty armpits, and hairy legs
I wish she'd yell "get the fuck outta my bed".
Sickly sweet,
it's running back down her throat
In between her legs it's like an overflowin boat.
The rattling in his nose
the wet patch on the bed
the fuckin nightmares she has
witnessing her own death.

Sleep leaves her side at sunrise
struggles to get satisfied.
Guess this is what it's like
when love is pushed aside.