dreams (a poem)

I am a woman you know butnever knew. Convinced we’re all the samedreams, wisps of smoke. Here today, gone tomorrow.No honor, no loyalty. Not strong enough to summonthe likes of you. Truth; you’ve no strength for me.You fear what cannot be contained.In your dreams I remain. Smoke slipping through fingers.Drifting back to the ethers. Like…

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Chandelier (a poem)

A beautiful distraction.You illuminate, naturally everyone looks up to you.Their eyes drawn to you.You bring light where there is darkness, taking away the fear.One day, I reached for you.I wanted to be where you are up above.I got there and I was in awe.Time passed and I hurt.In your light I am cold: No care.…

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Wrestle, Part II (an erotic short)

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT AND EXPLICIT LANGUAGE Wrestle, Part I (click here) …I reach below for your magnificent bulge, doing it’s best to defy its denim prison. I stroke you. Your breathing eases as does your tension, but not the desire. Never the desire. I offer you no metaphors. No confusion. No allusions…

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The Herd (a poem)

My love, bury me in your words.They keep meseparate fromthe herd.While I roammidst my brethrenI am with you. In your words,I am apart fromeveryone else. Christina Schmidt, MAarmedwithcoffee [There is a Wrestle, Part II (***omg, the emails***) I promise 😊 and a general blog-writing update. I never seem to have more than 5 minutes to…

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Wrestle, Part I (an erotic short)

You playfully swat my ponytail. I cut my eyes to the side, squinting at you as I speak, You know I hate that. I don’t like it when my hair is messed with and you damn well know it. Without word you do it again, annoying me, wanting my attention. As your hand smacks the…

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burning alive (a poem)

the wretched thing inside youwrithing, pulsating, mindlessdesiring what it cannot haveuseless, pointless, impotentpray to me, i am Goddess of the Unrequited forfeit your desires since day and nightmy body burns without relief, heart remains untouched an experience not for the faint or weak-kneedall promises unfulfilled will find their homeleave your dreams of another at my…

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his quiet reflections (a poem)

Looking upon the lives of othersA kaleidoscope of colors and childlike wonders ‘I used to be seen,’ he recallsA scream lodged in his chest at the chance to be someone different Ready made box, a popular life modelLess of a fuss, nice and modestHe won’t live life twice, tacked to his third act as he…

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