Wanna Watch Poetry and Masturbate With Me?

punkswritepoems:

We could breathe
heavy
as the words writhe
and strip bare

Gasp as truths are revealed

I could stroke
over the broken heart
while you finger-dance
along
witty turns of phrase

When the depths of souls
are plunged,
perhaps
we could switch hands
and see whose feel better

(via mermaidsbite)

The sea has me

For now there is nothing but baring to thee
As my yesterday’s were adorned with the finest coverings
(So quaint… my yesterdays… not even a blink in the fullness of time forevermore)
Yet wrapped in me, was I
An otter alone in the sea
Kept in a kelp bed of her forgotten greenery
A white foam upon these lips as if I too drink among cohorts
Safe within a storm
A sip unshared for drips had dripped from these soft pressed lips
To the barren bottom of a sun less sea

Upon these eyes
See a horizon curved out there as in the journey of your infinite love
For length and beauty are also housed in the finite
The soft swim of your eyes
They too wash over me
I swap this green for one of thee

Glorious She, of Glorious Glory
Bring your tongue to rest upon my words, for we shall forever
Mince syllables together

Tags: poetry of yore

aprilmolano:

Ahahaha… nope

aprilmolano:

Ahahaha… nope

(via miscellaneous-elle)

"Just dropped in (to see what condition my condition was in)"

— Mikey Newbury

Love

venuscrow:

Do you really think the  way to love is a giving away?

Love comes from within the soul of you,

never without.

Quieten the fevered monologue in the mind

hear the still, sweet voice within

calling you home.

Oh what beauty and majesty is to be found there.

everything is revealed here.

fear is an absence of you

and you get to create it all.

Venus Crow.

bullets for breakfast

street-heart-posts:

I’ve tasted the bitter
and know the sweet

of holding the bullet
between my teeth

of knowing with certainty
that biting down

can bring destruction
or release


—T.C. (2014)

Prompt: The feeling when you swallow pride

"I think people spend too much time staring into screens and not enough time drinking wine, tongue kissing, and dancing under the moon."

— Rachel Wolchin (via nyu-tah)  (via irreluvant)

(Source: observando, via mywhatsoulwouldlove)

youreyesblazeout:

you make yourself a drink 
of kissing me 
and slip it slowly

youreyesblazeout:

you make yourself a drink
of kissing me
and slip it slowly

(via lovaboxa)

likeafieldmouse:

Vincent van Gogh - Sprig of Flowering Almond in a Glass (1888)

likeafieldmouse:

Vincent van Gogh - Sprig of Flowering Almond in a Glass (1888)

(via lovaboxa)