i sit comfortably lounging in your mind
letting my lust for you satisfy me completely
not realising that i have given into a deadly sin
you're the devil & you've claimed my soul
yet i still have this insatiable hunger

wanting more.

private gallery

my artist :

as i lay here on canvas on my back, i await to be painted, softly insert your hard brush on my wet pink page. I want you to paint a picture on this paper that'll last forever. use all the colours you want & do not worry about the mess. paint all your emotions into me. take it out on this pink paper, this pink matter. make love to me as if I'm your piece of art. your greatest portrait. & when you're satisfied with this portrait, let it be the one for yours to keep.

in your private gallery.

my poetique affair with a poetique lover.

his words always seem to send shivers down my spine. they are like the tickle of an orgasm and yet somehow that night I was filled with the hesitancy to give in to his demands. "no", i said. "my mind is still pure, still innocent. still tight".

forrest wasn't taking no for an answer.  i couldn't fight it any longer and so i gave in. i wasn't going to lose. i was going to deeply mind fuck him, the way he was going to fuck me.
forrest : i want to shatter your walls. give me a chance to raw fuck your tight mind. my mind needs to cu....i mean relieve stress. it's loaded.

me : i want to empty those thoughts and remove your stress by leaving my ink stains on your cell membrane. i want to caress your intellect with the right similes and metaphors until you beg me to stop because your brain begins to freeze. i'll then let you return the favour by fulfilling my mind like my clitoris. playing with it, teasing it, licking it and sucking out all my juicy thoughts until it leaks.

forrest : i want to unload my desires all over your lips, locking away your speech. i ravish your metaphors and splash the last drops all around the vibrations on your clit. round 2. sucking & nibbling your dripping cum, making its way to your buttocks. i think my hardness yearns to see what's in that dark hole. swear dripping from your brain and temples, your clit has to give the throbbing rod the permission...

me : i dip my finger into my dripping wet cum from my brain after you've vigorously ravaged my mind and then i lick my finger. embracing the taste.

forrest : i take your finger and suck with passion every last smear. i want the real thing, nothing to protect my mind from yours.

me : now that you've exposed all my filthy thoughts, allow me to expose yours. allow me to dig deeper into all your existing subconscious regions. allow me to lick and suck hard to reveal the genius in you.

forrest : dig away for you may find gold.

me : this gold that will continue to flow for generations and generations.

forrest : i'll hold your head for support, i'll support your movement. let me ride your tongue and block your speech once again. i'll be generous & allow you to deepthroat so you can swallow the warm gold. whole.

me : mmm, i lick my lips because as i taste & swallow your love.

forrest : you tremble at your knees with violence because my cup overflows.

me : stare at these verses & words i give you as i suck you without blinking. allow your cup to overflow endlessly on my paper.

forrest : i stare in unbelievable helplessness, the sensations are making me go blind. i ask for your whole body, every square inch is mine. i am lord over your intellect.

me : i get & give thanks to you lord, for this orgasmic poetique salvation you give to me.

forrest : bow to me queen, make my famished meat disappear and drip. i pick you up, hands caressing the soft buttocks. i lay you on the soft wet filled sheets and insert. you have me in totality. i tease the clit once again & pound & pound & pound & pound & pound till we're breathless.

we : we are lying on the bed, watching each other trying to regain strength, for we have been weak. for we have mind fucked each other.

forrest : we are breathing with severity, laying in pools of sweat and cum in abundance. eyes telling each other there's no more left to give. we truly fucked. i came in your mind. & you poetique, came in mine.

00:00

Time : 00:00

As I sit in front of this screen, typing away on this keyboard yet I still have no clue on how to find meaning in my words. They all seem meaningless to me. It almost feels like I am having a colloquy with my other self. My other self who is fighting this new me. My other self who wants me to be strong, who wants me to fight these demons that want me to lose this battle. My fingers type away anyway...

The last thing on my mind lately seems to be sleep. I find myself drowning in a deep pool of tears, heartache and tormenting nightmares. Nightmares of the lack of his presence that have now forged a huge hole in my heart. And for some strange reason, I'm afraid I am slowly beginning to find comfort in this emptiness.

I used to be a believer of God, I still am. I think. I'm not sure. It's just that lately, I feel like like my heart has become faithless. I don't know how to feel about religion anymore. I know how this sounds, I know it sounds disastrous. But I'm feeling all these emotions. This is my venue for honesty and when I write, it all becomes truth.I don't seem to care about a lot of things. Don't get me wrong, I care. Only a little. I do feel bad for feeling this way, I do. It's not what I chose. I need to know what happened. What happened to the person who was addicted to creed? The person who believed in nothing else but God, the person who turned to the Lord for everything? Where did she go? I find myself questioning the Lord himself. Asking him why he took my father away to a point where all my tears get used up. He was supposed to be here when I graduated, when I got married, when I had my first child and when I achieved all my goals. All these things don't seem to matter anymore. I want them to matter again. Not for my sake, but for his. I have heard a lot of people tell me "I know how you feel, just be strong and make him proud". I still don't understand how anyone is able to see what's truly in my heart. No one. Not one soul will ever be able to understand.

I know that if he was still here with me, I wouldn't even be here writing this.

If only.

When did I lose so much of myself? I'm in a constant search for my soul and my loving heart. I need to find it. Who's going to save me?

God??

I look at the time again. It still shows 00:00

My Hip Hop

I just wanna kick it with you on a beautiful Thursday evening as we lay on our roof top watching the sunset as the stars begin to appear, blessing us with the beautiful light, fresh air, wind blowing on our faces. Ensuring us that He is with us. Listening to some Talib Kweli and some Mos Def as we share some philosophical and intellectual conversations that turn into intellectual intercourse while sippin' on some red wine.

 You my Blackstar, are my Hip Hop.

 

 

Sexetry

My poet, I love the way you rapidly finger my thoughts, oh I love this feeling so I take my pen and take it out on my notebook and write down all thoughts and emotions imaginable and even felt until I climax. I'll do it all over again until there isn't enough ink left in my pen. I cannot wait for you come into my mind.

But now I feel it's my turn so please relax your mind.

Can I fuck you deeply with my words? Even though I may feel distant from you physically, emotionally and spiritually I'm close. Poetically even closer, through words. I love the way our words come together when they touch. They embrace each other syncronizing and climaxing through every letter that form each word from U to S creating a union that is US. US is poetically poetic my poet. Let's create a love poem. A beautiful love poem that must be recited. And when I recite this poem to you, listen to the rhymes and metaphors scream out loud in satisfaction. And when we're done, allow me to verbally embrace you and mentally caress your every inch of thoughts. In favour, deeply penetrate every entrance to my mind and then allow me to poetically swallow the sweet words pouring out of your mouth.

Sex is an emotion in motion. Would you continue to fuck me poetically by releasing all your emotions in motion into me. Let's make sexetry.

I yearn to explore every constraint of the secrets that you keep.

He loves me not

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not...

I don't need to count the flower petals anymore.

He never loved me.

He loves me not...