MY DARK THOUGHTS….ADULT CONTENT

Monthly Archives: September 2014

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I am thirsty, drunk for something exotic, erotic,

that will make my teeth shine, slick as my

tongue moves over angels….

I would love to bloody your words as

you speak in scarlet tinsel, dancing,

tracing…

Would you let me trace, rake, take?

Could I be the forever?

My lips lick my appetite, counting the

drops till I’m done, but never to end.

I want to make you gush, blush, but

I would never rush….

I would be deliberate, consistent, eating

you delicious…

You would become my favorite food, all

to indulge my lust….

I will feed as you watch my eyes become

moons, rising for you…

You gather my hair like pages,

opening as I become your addiction, telling

tales….

Awakened, you become thirsty…..


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Let me cover your mouth with mine

to dine, for a time….

Would you accept my kiss, your

blonde locks twined with my brown,

a no-no….

I wonder if you would need directing

or you would know what to do as words

were silent, stilled…..

Would you get hard against me, could

I stir your adolescent fantasies?

Would you take my lead, or try to

trace your own?

I want to show you what you could

become, how to taste me slowly, to

watch and wait….

My finger, going in circles, you

will be mine…

Hands on my face, setting the

pace, up to meet you, finally….

I wonder what your flavor would be,

your aftertaste, against my tongue

as you settle, swirling, coloring

me….

I want to swoon as the moon touches us

in magic, as this moment hushes……


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THIS IS THE MOST UNUSUAL GIF I HAVE SEEN YET,

SO MAGICAL AND JUST AMAZING TO ME…HOPE

YOU ENJOY:)


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Fetal, red, aborted,

dreamy, fucking

death to be born

again….

So, I lay so lovely

in ghostly nursery

rhymes, waiting,

bleached, demonic

catatonic….


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Flighty, batty, you always looking

for your sugar daddy…..

Now you roam alone, with no

home…..

Your twin bends, pretends, but she

will never be you….

I wish someone would just put you

out of your misery, make you history….

Detached, the whites of eyes never

to be patched….

Paranoid, your soul void, delusional,

thinking the streets stare, follow you….

Coins, silver, twinkle, fallen, but your

wishes were never meant to come true….

Now when I look at me, I see you……



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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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SHEILA RENEE PARKER

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