sexuality

Learn more about other poetry terms

I’m angry with you. I’m sorry I am, I don’t want to be, but I am. You make me sad and you hurt me. My heart aches all the time. Why did you fall in love with me if you can’t love me?
  It’s not hard when it’s not present When we’re working together and we have to hide When you’re 1,500 miles away It’s not hard when we don’t think about it
I refuse to be defined by my sexuality, It’s my state of mind, refined by my mental capacity, I don’t have a label, I’m not a tin of beans, love is love, and we’re all able,  to love by any means.
I was very very very broken Nothing but sharp objects and dark places; gone boy The fog was so thick around me All i could see was one shining light
Sometimes i like to get high on beaches at night time I like to inhale the chemicals And exhale my fears I like the feeling of the sand Cool and soft and silky
it’s easy to be lonely in the lights of this city wondering why you can never look me in the eyes when you tell me that im pretty  
i see you in fucking santa clarita. fucking that bitch that will never fucking love you that will never treat you like me- that will never protect you,
you have a million suitors  anyone who meets you becomes entranced by your beauty the better men try to look a little deeper
i want to write about happy things so i find myself thinking of your lips i find myself hoping that tonight i’ll finally get to kiss you- at least in my dreams
if we want to talk about being hard to love that definition begins with me anxiety  insecurity paranoia chewing me up, throwing me out
Love is all in vain The vulnerability Romanticized There is nothing romantic about this pain There is nothing i love about hurting
For Your Pleasure There was a study done at the University of Nicosia  stating that I,  a woman-loving,  pussy-eating, big-ole-queer 
They didn’t tell you that cherry cola was wrong, but they let you know it was.  They said that only the sick minded drank it, declared from a broken and cracked pulpit
“There is no such thing as safe sex, since no one can create a condom for the soul.” -Jayce O’Neal   To think that we are here,  Connected pelvis to pelvis By tubes and fluids
Sometimes I’m a sexually repressed nun who fell for someone outside the faith,   A guy carrying multiple, heavy bags of groceries for someone who won’t return the favor,
My gender is a writhing thing in the corner    I poke it with a stick every so often to see how it will move.   My sex is a warm pink alien I cup in my hand
lesbians are not real, peeping tom. the ones that u want anyway. dreamland lesbians: straight girls in sheep’s clothing that succumb to men’s advances eventually. only existing when u
if i was her boyfriend i’d invite her to stay the night at my house if she likes, she would say “yes!”, we’d grab snacks i would nervously rest my head on her shoulder o why did I wear a dress?
There is no end in site. Stereotypes exist because of..: Muslims who blow things up, Christians who wrongfully judge,
I am human above all else.
Day one Religious Dependent Straight.   Youngest Church is ok, would rather be somewhere else “Baby’d” if you may
Day one Religious Dependent Straight.   Youngest Church is ok, would rather be somewhere else “Baby’d” if you may
I first kissed a boy When young and sweet, but soon learned Men are not for me.
There are times I wish it would always be the middle of the night. Everything is calm, still and you can hear everything beyond your door if you listen well.
Who are we really when we are shut out of the world. Not even allowed a bathroom break. Why are we set aside and over looked. Jobs, college acceptances, name changes.
You
Your fingers trace against my skin And send shivers down my spine I press up close against you
Open your bible, pray for forgiveness, tell him your sins, the lord is your witness. We are all children of God with free will; we are family, you know. Then why in the definition of religion is the word control?
As children we are told Right and wrong are black and white And the hard line between them is time and place That green means good and red means Stop  
I'm a grown-up now.  And I do grown-up things. Like pay my taxes, cry at night, And wear engagement rings.   And I'm a grown-up now. So I only watch the news, I drown unfamiliar feelings,
We escaped our mundane lives and embraced the night. Where the sky is dyed in purples and blues and black Stars prick the sky in their countless light
We escaped our mundane lives and embraced the night. Where the sky is dyed in purples and blues and black Stars prick the sky in their countless light
Here are my words for a lover true That one day you’ll hear and accept my tune For I have eyes only for you My lover yet to come.  
What light lives inside you? A message, like a neck I might graze, Harder than cider to the tip of my tongue, Skin terracotta, and glance just as glazed,
What’s in an attraction? Sure the structure of your face Can be aesthetically pleasing But that doesn’t make me want to fuck you
You say they’re confused They don't know what they want They don't understand And in order to put the world in order
The word "fight" never seemed to apply I see its far more than what meets the eye A promise made in youth that must live when youth dies And I fight. Oh, its a front and a facade - yes, I fight!  
Today I painted my nails black so    next      time      I dig them into your warm cold,       indifferent back you might feel my anger under         your        skin and maybe my kiss might
Part one: Love. How can it be that one word holds so much power, so much emotion, so much responsibility?
When I was a kid, I loved to write. I wrote the stars into the sky, the smile on my mother’s face. I wrote the words that my soul whispered
Inequality revolves around the idea of stereotypes. Black, White, Yellow, Red,
water wraps around my legs sticky with salt and bone numbing wisdom   my fingertips stroke murky clouds billowing across the sea’s glass
My chest has the compiled list of the things I want most A detailed description of their face, to the color of their eyesTo the sparkle in their teethI’ve fallen for the way she looks at me to the way he disagreed with me But according to him, my
Dear Best Friend When we laugh together until we're snorting and wheezing Looking crazy to anyone who glances at us Or when you smile at me without saying anything Those are the times when I want to say
404
Binary. Ones and zeros. Female and male. Homosexual and heterosexual. Black and white. Right and wrong. Your world is small when you cut out infinity.  
Perfect Perfect is a disease That everyone is trying to achieve No one is safe And no one can hide from perfect And it’s dreadful ways  
dear heart of mine, why can’t you decide who you do and do not like   why did it take you so long to realize
To the Church that raised me, 
Sleep around player. Don’t be a pussy. Grab her by the pussy.   My legs are shut, Crossed, And locked with my chastity belt.
Dear Mom and Dad,  Wish you knew how bad it hurts to keep something like this from you.  Wish you felt how I felt, the way my heart drops whenever you make a negative comment about someone just because of who they love.
Why am I scared of being me You'll never know what it's like to be Someone that only Sees hatred and bigotry Towards a person like me A person of my sexuality   Murdered on the street
Sweet fruit, Forbidden fruit, I shall ignore god's warning, For to taste ambrosia I shall sin ten-thousand times more. I cannot resist the serpent, Nor do I think I would so desire.  
I first checked you out in school. I don’t know what caught my eye But it doesn’t matter because I was too shy And let you pass by for the fear you were “too intellectual.”
Everyday girls stand on the scales, and cry. They look in the mirror and cry. They look at themselves, see themselves as fat when they are fading away to skin and bone.  
my brain smokes and i ride the wind or drift by the galaxy past oblivion the old man sits there in a way hes always been today i think
“Amazing,” he breathes, eyes bright,
All around are people, too Busy to Care about anything except the moment they are in, too Distracted to notice that they are not the only ones that Exist. They do not have the time to see the world
six letters. one word.   Faggot. two syllables that make any queer kid in-or-out of the closet feel nothing less than unwanted unloved
This morning I woke up and it was controversial. My skin glowed caramel under the sun and it was controversial.
Spoken Intro: “All of a sudden, it’s like you’ve become aware of your own existence, how unwhole you are. And you’re constantly being reborn... Again... And again... And again... And again.
The beauty of those oppressed by those with money. You often wonder if they think you're funny. If being poor and having to rely on the next paycheck is a reason to be scorned.
“We love you no matter what.”“I’ll never support gay marriage.”“We’re always so proud of you.”“That lifestyle is a crime against God.”“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters”... Contradiction.
Red, White, and Blue. Such beautiful colors that wave high above, Lately though all I see is Black, White, and Brown. Funny how three colors can unite us, funny how they divide us.
That great flag flys high above us, it says freedom for all Freedom for all has some terms and conditions though Must be of a light or fair skin tone Must be of a christian denomination Must be a man
For years and years I was filled with fear
Daddy I’m a whore You knew the first boy I kissed He didn’t know me Daddy I’m a whore The second boy I kissed did it as a joke
Daddy I’m a whore You knew the first boy I kissed He didn’t know me Daddy I’m a whore The second boy I kissed did it as a joke
They say the young have a flame within them. But I think they need that flame to keep themselves warm, Stretching their cold, old hands out to my fire to stop the numbness. Little do they know, 
The way she walks transmogrifies My brain into soft clouds and kites When below is where reality lies Sweetly, strongly, in those silt brown eyes   Around those black river rocks, madsmoothed
Swimming in a sea of skin I only felt her warm hand fingers laced through mine like sutures binding a wound allowing it to heal.
Pride The highest misconception is fluorescent colors are all that surrounds me daily I carry my “gayness” around like it’s a trophy
Seventeen years of life experience and I'm still not qualified for the job, because everyone thinks I'm either too young or too dumb. Pressured by society to look thin and tan, but we can hardly face each other man to man.
Odd as it seems, I don’t remember where I was. I just remember my sister wanting to cuss
I need a place A safe place A silent place A peaceful place  A building where I can march up to a urinal and piss like nobody's watching
Since when has speech become akin to sex? All accountability falls out, lifeless, writhing On the floor in a snake’s pattern.
You're sitting on my desk Laughing and joking and talking with those who stand beside the teacher And I would rather be anywhere else Because you are too close, too near, too much for me to handle
She grabs my shoulders and whispers 'you are broken.' I want to rage at this, but I only look at my flat belly.   'you'll want a child one day' I have no desire, and she breaks down the doors
It has been a long tiresome day . But for some reason, I don’t want to go home . Oh, I know why I don’t want to go home yet. I need to put a few in me first.
Eve
One is torn from the inside out as the death of life and the consequence of the original sin of \mankind manifests its estrogenic massacre;/ The red of the fruit \of the knowledge of good and evil pollutes /white linen so neatly;
If only He made me a beautiful nymph, Though I do not mean to question my existence, But I do. You know who I love, What and who I want to love, As who I am for that lover,
at the end of it all you told me i wasnt gay enough like the nights i dedicated to you weren't real enough? all the times i swooned for you, all the times i grew for you it just took time for me to adjust  
Me, Craving the flesh Of sunset lavender Tasting  Bruises from  Drunken collisions Willow wheat hair 
Anxiety and me Go hand in hand with my sexuality and me I am not straight  And I am not gay I am somewhere in the in-between
Sexuality is a complex concept.   If I got specific about my sexual and romantic orientation, The most accurate way to describe my preferences would be:  
"you only pick the goods from her remains, because it's only a persistence 
1000 years from now when they find my delicate laced up corpse— my femur will whisper Anthropologists will murmur —Here is the
Love is love, but we frown upon certain kinds. I remember when I was scared to let the world knowthe kind of love that I like. Hiding a relationship...Four years to be exact. Hurting myself and my partner.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I had as much privilege™ as you. I wish I could get away with being As generic, As white, As male, And as ignorant and original™
"Wow, that's pretty brave. Chancing on your mom walking in On you shoving a dildo Into your girlfriend."   The alarm screaming, burning eyes After not once allowing my brain to dip into sleep
we've been told  our whole lives  who we are  our identity carved into our skin and hidden underneath our dresses
my sister is blonde and she is one of the smartest people I know my friend is muslim and she has the kindest soul I'm on the transgender spectrum I am not confused
don’t it feel good?  being infatuated by just one individual tell me it don’t perceive affection because i highly oppose    espying such piece of art 
This poem is not about her small heart and how it beat against my chest, A steady stuttering rhythm, Th-thump th-thump th-thump.   This poem is not about her small hands and how they cradled my chest,
I’m a femme fatalemy father taught me wellLike Mata Hari my charms arefor my victims to dispelLike the mistress Laura Bellthe Queen of London Whoredomone day I may find the Lord but
                                      The Words of a Faggot Imagine a boy   Now imagine him tall and stocky Just a little bit cocky Think of him in a letterman jacket
There’s something about Caps and Gowns, And burning from Chlamydia That could make last will out of diploma Memories of the prom night church girl
Recently I found out that a bible study made up of a few girls from my school discussed at one of their meetings how I am a hypocrite, because I say I am a christian, I say I believe in the words of the bible, but I also, quite loudly, o
There's a sickness in society It's called sexuality Where everyone wants to reach out and touch And choose what they want Who they want What label they want And with every touch it seems to spead
Please don't touch me For I'm afraid Of all the things you'll somehow see And the fact that I'll be made The truth is simple And it goes as thus There is no kind touch that may lull
the world i live in is so ignorant . we base our choices off how others will react .
I am more than this confusion That seems to settle on me Caused by trying to find my place Inthis ever misunderstood community you preach and preach trying to end this hate
There are parts of me that I expressed That are now only memories.
The longest journey Is finding joy. And it's hard to find In one certain boy. To use a cliche, He's been through hell, And things aren't going To turn out well. Everything is a trigger,
As young people, we are told "Be yourself; noone can do it for you." That is awesome.   Then we grow older And ourselves are not what anyone expected. That is awesome.  
we grew up with Barbie dolls, princesses, baseball and football stars
Someone is watching me Raw skin, black and blue.  Bitter screams manipulate Frantic shadows smear me Bare arms ache Gardens storm behind Red roses sweat Lust and death 
Fiametta Under the layers of our years, Beneath that wizened crust,  sleeps the ageless spirit that once set fire to our eyes.
There's too much discrimination, too many uncaring hearts, Some people only laugh when others are torn apart. Whether its racism or sexuality, no one seems to care,
My soul is trapped inside a barbed wire box and I cannot breathe The skulls in the closet of the back of my mind sneering
Authentic versions caught on the slip of the tongue,
And as I hum broken syllables caught in a broken lung,I come off as an oddity within the realm of Normalcy,Because my struggles to be them, they can never see:
  Do not try to invade my thoughts; my cross is too heavy to bear... Just listen when I need to express them, & I will make you fully aware!   Ill let you into my life, and all to me that is real; I will open up my heart and tell you how I...
Without a filter, I am seen.
So you found out Well, how do you feel? Me? I feel vulnerable Anxious Confused Judged Hurt Angry Destroyed This was a side of me that you weren't ready for
  I am controlled by this Bryiana, What story has my face have told? Her very presence sends a chill of electricity down my spine
For as long as i can remembe
When you see me you think you know me from what I present myself to be or what I think you would like to see  of me of who I "want to be"  with hashtags and filters and make ups and cover
odd how i think ofYou in the spice aisleof the grocer near my homewhich sits empty,waiting forYour bodyto fill it with the smell of rosemary andsmoke.   if only i had time
What would I call myself? Judgemental? Selfish? Cruel? I don't like to believe that, but unfortunately, I can be, and I have been. Kind. Loving. Caring.
The mask  by Deeja Austin   It's more than a filter
I am. Loved, that is. They don't always say it, They mayn't always show it, And I mightn't always feel it, But it's there. He's there.
Let me just start With some words from my heart OK Here we go. How can I Be fixed, When all I see around me Makes me feel Like I'm less?
"Anormal", "Wrong", "Needs To Be Fixed", "Queer!" That's but a small bit of the everyday soundtack that I hear. "No, I don't want a Kiss.", "I'm not broken.",  "Please don't touch me there!"
I'm sorry I didn't grow up A boy being told he could be anything I wanted.
Hairy Armpits “Just wax, or shave, or pluck that hair.” Don’t you see I really don’t care?   “Oh my god that’s so gross, ew!” They don’t bother me, why does it bother you?
Authenticity The orgin of all truth The face of deceit
What are you? Why cant you make up your mind? Just pick one? Why do i have to decide Cant i just enjoy this time we are taught that happines is in the future and so we must suffer in the now
A smile, A laugh. Calculative, precise. "What a beautiful young Woman you are, ready to please the perfect Man that is required for a  Healthy Happy  Normal life."
Your morning breath blew beautifully A familiar funk stuck on the windowsill I’d steal this stench and drench my windowpanes repetitiously  
theres this thing out there called honesty and i tried to do it once with this kid who turned out to be just another flea seriously fuck rhyming im very angry about this
I am not broken Because I need things to be just right, Because I worry about the little things, Because my fears are unrealistic. I am not broken, you just don’t understand.   I am not broken
When I used to look in the mirror, I would see A girl who struggled, but yet was sometimes pretty. I struggled with my relationship with my family. Although they clothed, fed, housed, and spoiled me,
Round 1: You ask your parents how they feel about gay people "trash" "freaks" "sinners"
the veil for insecurity
I envy those that shine in the light, Those who aren't afraid to fight for who they are. For every time I think it's time, For every time I say that this moment, this one is surely mine,
We hide inside our separate corners 
To question my sexuality To question everything that I once knew That I was remotely sure about  That's hard  For Her though  thats has to be the easiest choice I could make
To question my sexuality To question everything that I once knew That I was remotely sure about  That's hard  For Her though  thats has to be the easiest choice I could make
She asked another girl to homecoming …I’m jealous
I Exist Though you may try to find some sort of bubble to put me in To maybe keep my unnaturalness from trying to infect you To maybe make yourself feel better when you can "see past it"
I want to make love constantly and get high stay young
Let me put something into perspective for you
Why is love such a crime? Why must people aim hatred towards love? When a man holds another's hand they look away in disgust
It feels soft, smooth, curves at the bust.
I thought for sure this time My midnight bedroom black as the sin I Could have committed with him Was lit up enough from the furnace of our bodies I could see his eyes wanting me.
Laying down on this pillow, staring at the wall Thinking about how often pleasure has made me fall. Like my first sexual boyfriend, he was a con Cause I told him I didn't want sex and he STILL got some.
Things my parents said when I was in kindergarten: “Just be yourself and you’ll make friends.”
Straight What is ‘lesbian’? Not me, I swear I’m ‘normal’ Curious My best friend Likes girls, I guess It’s not that odd
When a girl loses her virginity, Why do we act like she’s lost her dignity? The very fact that we say she’s lost something seems to suggest That by having sex her value is somehow less
Her wonderful innocence faded away. Her clothing, it fell away too. Her needs, her desires are catching on fire, And soon she will melt into you.   You think you deserve this. You think she's a fool.
Eyes sore, pierced from what I've seen.
Beautiful, strung up in the center of the room, leather caressing his wrists pulled tight like the blindfold pressed against his eyes. The centerpiece of a mouthwatering feast.   Suspended,
"Between man and a woman" is what my parents always said "is what your marriage must be" or, to us, you're dead was the fine print hidden beneath their Bible's words
The idea of sex In the air everywhere Billboards and signs and t.v. too Are all too much and make me puke “Sex sells” someone says, But don’t they know It’s dangerous? Sex blurs the line
I'm bisexual - not homosexual.   
It seems as if theres no reputable or therapeutical cure to all this stress I'm misplacing
I’m tired   Tired of being told women are placed upon a Pedestal. When the reality if we are upset we are told that we are being Menstrual We do not see eye to eye, missing each other due to Fluctuation of Time.
i’ve always been a hopeless romantic,
I was told that without the mane I carriedI wasn’t a lion anymoreJust a sheep.
When I lean into your neck and a sigh escapes my mouth, I am trying to tell you how to touch me.  
Choice is a conscious decisions We choose what we wear And what we say And what we do But Love is not a choice Love is a feeling Mysterious and dangerous Silently screaming
If I could change one thing It would be so that the world could stop hating. It would be so that the color of my skin, The religion that I practice, The people whom I choose to love,
I am not normal (Both? They ask) I try to scrub the abnormal away (Get rid of anything that likes girls) I brush until my gums bleed, choking on mint and tears (Leave behind the heathen desires)
What is bi-sexuality? How does it taste? Is it like ice cream? That I prefer both flavors of chocolate and vanilla?!!! The soft sexy curves of a woman The rock hard muscles of a man
This is for the girl
i feel like an alien sometimesout of this worldbecause i'm not always surethat i like the idea of
i’ve always said i’ll never bear a son or daughter, or any being in between, or nothing of the combination; but i wonder if that’s the key to replenish the life in me, to grow my flower;
  To whit the most passionate excesses wave from the body
Who Am I? A question asked on every application ever written Asked in every interview ever given But I still don’t know the answer   Who Am I? I know where I’m from I know who my family is
A genuine lust of morning'sVoiceThere I slumber, and ponderAbout the tresspassers of the dayAnd the smell of the roses fill theCream cooled air of my mindWhile my arrival is very slow and timed
Confusion.   Confusion between my legs      that goes against what God says Feeling wrong but feels so right, It sometimes disturbs my dreams at night That tingling sensation, I feel it in my core
Dear my love, whose name is unknown I’ve encrypted my unspoken words onto this heart of stone   Each waking hour, each restless night, every passing moment all a paradigm
  I developed a smoker’s cough in the last month or so I try to make it cute by smiling a little apologetically
You're the perfect balance between sexy and sweet, cruel and kind. I want you in my bloodstream. Take over my mind. I can't get close enough to you. Your touch has me melting and
Help me believe that youre the right man for my heart..help believe that you can stand to be the mother of my future childrens...
Thoughts of her Dripping into my sternum From all the way up there In my brain Where she has implanted herself   Like an alien egg    
I can't believe I was so blind, To see the mistakes I made, To see all the chances I could have taken, To see all the things that went wrong, To see all the things I could have prevented.  
When you look in a mirror, what do you see? A smile, an eyelash, a splash of pink gloss? Noticing her reflection, what does she see? A short skirt, low-cut shirt, is she totally lost?
I forgot  Those times I sat on my bed and cried, And sobbed my losses after all I tried And you sat by my side and held me tight You spoke comforting words to make things right.
So you ask me why I write... You want to know why I do what I do? So here, how about I give you a clue,  I am an emotional volcanoe just waiting to erupt, but not in the way you may think, I don't live to dectruct
Don’t be fooled by the innocent Smile that’s been glued on This face, papier-mâchéd with scraps Of porcelain and love Poems and kindness Around a cage of demands To be pure.
Look! Look! Look! Brown, hazelnut eyes Shutter and shift accordingly As long, unorthodox lashes brush away dust mites Teeth yellow growing green Tongue hairier than the green goblin's spleen
Yesterday I dug out the box I hid when I was 15. It was covered in dirt, worms crawling on it, and smelled like a dirty homeless man. I was confused, though. I didn’t know how to open it. I completely forgot how it worked.
When people told me being black was a form of inferiority I wanted to hate white people, I wanted to tear apart my own brown bones, Spreading through the clatter of mismatched words, And unclaimed, dusted culture,
always told to love you unconditionally. after all, you loved me enough to sacrifice your son for my sins. sometimes, i wonder if you would have sent him down to a world of homosexuals.
He was born with these genes That got him wearing tight jeans And he didn’t have a choice by all means Living differently with sexuality that leans Towards another direction that caused scenes
Only a facade, her innocence Her actions along with her appearance make others tense They see a sinner, but small and quite sweet The most darling whore they’d ever meet Her sin is lust, physical and lush
All I ever wanted Was for you To want me Take me Absorb me For who I am But it seems too much to ask
See that girl sitting over there? Rumor has it that in the ninth grade she and a senior boy with a movie poster face and a Hollister body went at it in the bushes at Sarah Something-Or-Other's 18th birthday party
I call her The Urge, And she calls to me daily. Walking down the halls, I hear her sweet voice, Calling, Always calling.
  BLED OUT   This pale heart of mine struggles with atony. Paper curls rain down from a fenestrated sky: Reams of esoteric paeans       soon crumpled by bored scientists.  
And suddenly it hits me like a punch in the gut that I can BE all these beautiful things I read: I can cut off my hair and wear fishnet stockings and clomp around in big black boots and I
There's Always gonna be These moments where us both Are going to be in need. In need of a voice, A touch, A kiss, In need of each other. The seduction of the other, To seduce the other.
I think that we’ve killed romance.
If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I would have to say too many dead bodies fertilize my mind’s garden. Every nook and cranny between the roots is filled with soiled insecurities.
Coming from the same man and woman The race known as humans have evolved so much, But one true quality that makes humans unique is our versatile aspects We can be smart; we can be strong,
He said that he was ready, he said now's the time to go She was hesitant to answer, she was only twelve years old But Puppy Love is blinding and her future was unclear
My skin crawls, I can't help but write. To you and her and my mother. “I loved you" I can't help but write I can't help but paint "I loved you" Onto my head and heart. I can't help but paint
Discrimination Five syllables more venomous than a rattlesnake bite. More painful than a little girl not getting her kiss goodnight. We all know what it is, Yet we act as though the impact is nothing.
How do you protect the innocent eyes, in a world filled with lies? Lustful minds that trick the young into irreversible crimes. Hips move in sync, to what eyes through cracked doors have seen. ”If I open my mouth, and bob like this.
If I could see you stretching out above me, I would meet your unravel of flesh and bone and sneak past the meat into something cleaner. I think I would like to see you empty, to feel the edge of your butterfly hips,
And when she woke, light Bore into her sweet eyes. Candle flames flickered Down to their waxy bases, Eager to put out their blazing Flames. Slowly, mildly Getting up, sensing the
We’re still friends, right? You ask, letting the death knell ring. Your body was my battlefield The curves of your waist drew me in, made me cling, Like a fly to rotting, raw, marbled meat, to a crumbling caricature
Subscribe to sexuality