MY DARK THOUGHTS….ADULT CONTENT

Monthly Archives: December 2013

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Skirting on the edges of cimmerian and luminous,
vamp fanged against Luna, bringing out my painted
halo.

My devotion on a steeple, under the bow of
Heaven, the sneer of Hell.

I compose grey to its final destiny,
emerged in fluent masquerade, what is
real, what lays dormant….

The book of white, a locket of
being and rest, I always knew
I was destined to fit in His hands…

A caped illusion of swallowed souls,
my many puzzle pieces that complete
and form One.

Possessed, on the hiss of a forked tongue,
ebony tears falling, cascading on cherubim
cheeks, ruptured on screams of hymns.

I am dead without both as whispered
veins keep me full, pregnant with a serpent
angel, adorned in hallowed be thy name…

The apocalyptic vessel of virginal blood
splattered on whores, creating shadow
and spirit, coalesce, born definite…

Jewel me, undress me, I am one and the
same…. strange innocence….


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Dark and divine you shatter my insides,
bound by distaste you weep to escape..

You cuddle and claw just to enthrall,
clouded in Jack-The-Ripper on manic
tides…

The tip of the devils tongue ringing
on angels ears…

I am your chattel, the very crown of
insanity..
Drinking claret on fanged pouts.

I am aphotic, bleached by the
shadows of the sun, and so I dwell,
unnerved in psychotic oblivion…
________________
chattel-property
aphotic-lack of light


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Strewn on dahlia Hearts, these
dreams, live another life, and so
I astral in the land of cerise,
draped in gold crowns, my
silver lining on my spiked fringe.

Your ruby smudge on my kiss, eyes
giving death every time we caress

Sanguine flows down my chin,
rests on my neck, stained…

Not a lady on this night, garter
smiling all lewd as my twins play
peek-a-boo on Cupid’s wood.

Homicidal arrows murder skeletal remains,
a symphony of battering slick wet suicide,
drinking leftover Bloody Mary’s.

Knees wipe the sobs of those before,
the carnival I play with…

I am full, and gush from russet, wrists
wide open, ready to be filled by you, so
the question is….

I am tattooed to you and you to me,
how about I be your Valentine Queen?


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Dusk playing along tendrils
stain, blushing flirting baroque,
a 3-D crisp Autumn breath.

Hues arch and curtsy,
calling for divine attention,
rays of purifying addiction…

Opalescent raindrops puddle
at my feet, and I giggle, kindly
giving them room to run and play.

Drapes of wispy bend and mold,
lovemaking to their silent prism
as they create their own daydream.

In masquerade, I wonder alone, noticing
the lonely street lamp, illuminating natures
collage, meditating on damp eyes.

I stroll in my own world, hallucinating
on chimera blooms, skipping slightly
to splish splash tunes on colored crepes…..

*PICTURE IS ONE I ACTUALLY TOOK AT SUNSET*


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Lacquered in quilled perversion, inked
on the edge of brunet, I stand statuesque,
placed for your eyes to stray leisurely,
staring into my black opals…

Follow my array of inhibition, my vanity
swallowing you up…

Your optic crawls to my speech, pursed,
breathing on my murmur…

Down you behold, to my pulse that flirts,
plays with your erection, how that pleases
me that your castle awaits me…

You descend to my bosom bowing down to you,
peaking, cresting on your ghostly tears.

Lines are drawn on the umbilical wink,
teasing you to look at the blush approaching…

You stroll to my private closet, where night
saunters, freely drinking candied waters, dripping
in silent agony.

On knees you slither, face to the floor,
watching the fallen mourning awake to your
trumpet, playing songs to my trinkets as
they flower, adorned on your glassed colors…


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He comes to me in shades of
dark, cold, wiping the very breath
from you, the air smokey, cancerous…

No heart beats, hollow, skeletal, no
limbs to hold me, alone, lost, shadowed
in his dusk…

Eyes hold, just as your
past has lied…
Marbled stone, a pulse never repeats
of a life created.

Destiny lays dim in sockets
that has seen too much, and
death holds it’s wind for
you to take the last step…

I will never know your pain, locked
from your soul I remain.


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I wet my mouth with your carnage,
your stain forever on my spirit.

Inside you dwell, forever another
beat of my heart, stilling the chill
if just for a little while…

You lay in dream land, I forever
your fantasy, your deliverance will
never be granted.

Your soul will eternally be dusk, Luna
your only light you will ever shed.

You smile as I rub your hair, pointed
tips greeting me…

My evermore companion, the dead of
night awaits, wake my amasius….


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Splayed in white upon
my neck, blues play underneath
as my shadow protrudes, raises
to greet you….

Eyes a misty grey as you enter,
rain upon my flesh, pores weeping
as you feed, drink your prey….

Your cock sweetens me enough to
your liking, and so you travel through me,
beyond dimensions of my life, death, grazing
enough just to curl my toes, building the
cosmos slowly just to hear me whimper…

You rise, fall, tumbling my soul just to put
me back together again..a slow departure
from the world…

My nails sketch you new veins that flow
against my pleasure, saturating me….

Brutality reds me in droplets of
pain as you move faster as you race
to meet my heartbeat, our souls slamming
together….

My screams break your drums as we both
collide, melt on candied flows…away we float,
the afterlife awaits….


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Your breath dapples hues in scenic foreplay…
Wet from the night before, you flow immortality…

Dark, ominous you leer above me,
bowing in auras, your light threading
through, a voyeur with stains on your
mouth…You greet me on confessional, the
souls that you trap upon your beauty..

My blues engraved on hued tombs, their
last exhale catches as virginal eyes
wakes, sins fall on frosty expiration….



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MY DARK THOUGHTS....ADULT CONTENT

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girlpoemsblog.wordpress.com/

During the days in which I choose to conform, I do so with a specific feeling in mind that I want to achieve. A sort of climax that I aim to reach. A feeling effortlessly maintained between the ages of 6-9 and again between the ages of 13-15, when being a girl was simply one of the numerous ways of being.

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Paranormal Author, Artist & Empath. Follow Sheila on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram! @sheilareneeparker