A darker mold.
By pushblood
Twisted images in time,
The cats play as the evil queen laughs in her layer.
Deception contently gets the best of me.
I lay pondering the next move.
The queen endures my lust,
She plays with my dark fantasies.
Dangling pleasures of the flesh,
The right moves and the perfect words she crumbles me.
Left bleed and motionless,
I’m just another pound,
A victim of a stolen core.
My guardian,
My angle,
My little pixie,
She touches me and I quiver.
Blanket my soul and swallow my pain.
A smile and a slow wet long kiss.
She pours her love into my crippled black heart.
Tears drain from my resurrected fresh eyes.
I smile,
But it is short.
For I know she will leave,
When I’m strong enough,
To control my own mind.
Lost and Left with twisted images in time.
As I stand alone…
…on the wrong side of the mirror…
.. and cry…
Comments on "A darker mold."
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On Thursday, March 18, 2010, Riven Waker
(317) wrote:
a delicate treatment of crushing subject matter - extreme beauty in this piece
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A former member wrote:
this felt so broken.. physically and psychologically... a most telling story of the pain after pleasure.. the eventual onslaught of melancholy..