Tag: sex

That Kind of Night

JayneLeave a comment

The blankets, slept in. The air thick with smoke from the magical stuff that turns your mind inward, too inward if you let it. I wouldn’t know, I’m more of a bore. The stale sweat rubs me in every wrong way while I tell myself I’m there for some divine reason. A few drops of blood drip from the crown of his head. Flashes of sex. Flashes of nude bones and rolling hills course through me like biblical visions from above. I don’t dare ask. And here he comes with all the magic and an entire universe behind his eyes that a few of us are lucky enough to see. I respect you, is what I wish to say. I like you- like you, is what I wish to say, but instead I talk about Chipotle. I want him and he wants me but I want more. The stink of stale sex and that feeling of whether he’ll be there tomorrow plagues me enough without it. “Not tonight, okay?” And that was ok. And it was ok. Like it should be. But it’s not the sex that connect us. The sadness that sits inside him reaches the depths of hell and the arms he wraps me in feel like the sun and the moon. He is an entire universe I’ll only ever leave in body because my mind wanders towards him in the most sacred ways. So sacred, it doesn’t feel right.

Your Wife III

Jayne2 Comments

She pokes and prods

Yells and screams

She wants sex

She wants to feel sexy

And dinner out

And he worked

he worked his ass off

But she wants wants wants

And the kids are hungry

And work is calling while they sit at the dinner table

Chicken and salad…. again

He’s glad he got fast food

But now she’s hurt and mad and sad

And needs attention

But he’s tired and she understands

So she cries in the bedroom with the baby

because she knows she’s too much

She wants to be more

To cook better

To look better with her hair and nails done

She nods off

baby on lap

Daughter in bed

Mom in chair

Dad somewhere she hopes is comfortable enough for him to get rest

So maybe just maybe tomorrow

he’ll finally have the energy to put up with her

Maybe he’ll even bring flowers

-Saschia

Know Yourself/Share Yourself

JayneLeave a comment

There are a million people that will love you and see you the way I do.

You are not stuck with one person

they are not the only one who can understand you.

But it is your job to understand you.

When you understand you and accept you

it doesn’t matter so much when others don’t

And then when those few people come along

who want to know every inch of the folds inside your skull

you’ll be able to tell them who you are

 

the idea of listening to you talk about who you were

and who you are

and who you wish to become

sounds like a conversation that’d peel me right open

 

let’s talk

Dear Lover

Jayne6 Comments

The life you desire doesn’t exist with me

It makes me sad I’m not the one for you

I’ve no desire to grow into something created for you

I’ve stepped away from the crowd

I spend nights on the outskirts of town

Contemplating the darkness within me

I’ve nothing to give but words on words

The only guarantee here is that the end is always near

The only promise I can give is that I will continue searching til my lids close and no longer open

Even then I hope the search continues

I’m not the one for you

I wasn’t placed on this planet for you

My place is separate and set apart from the rest

But I do hope to be wrapped up in you from time to time to ease the pains of constant shedding

But sometimes

I’m shedding you

-Saschia

Cravings

JayneLeave a comment

I’m just here for the chocolate

and you

I do enjoy a good truffle

Or a gummy bear with the perfect texture

But you

I’ve never tasted anything like you

I’ve had gummies and chocolates

Chocolate covered gummies

Nothing like you though

Then there’s the whole thing where

Too much candy gives me a belly ache

Too much of you though?

Well, you make me feel alive

I think I might even be healthier

When I’ve had my bit of you

It’s never enough

Neither things

I always want more candy

And I always want more you

-Saschia

Not Your Wife III

JayneLeave a comment

He wants her

her long black hair and brown eyes

Her propped up tits pushed together like cuddling lovers

He wants all of her

Not one ounce of her soul though

She can keep that locked up with the bats

Far away from his la dee dah soul

La dee dah cuz he lost it years ago I mean sometimes we get a glimpse but most times it’s not near

He just wants her body and her good deeds

And her good days

And her beliefs but only if they’re proper

He wants her sex

And he’d do a lot for it

Just like the rest

He jimmies his Jimmie to so many images

And if yall knew the things he did to those woman in his mind

You’d feel less alone cuz you probably do it too

And with his deflated balls emptied he’ll emerge from the bathroom

with his rules and suggestions

Of how she should wear her hair

And how she should make her choices

He places women below him while he shits

Then returns to tell her how to live a righteous life

He is as false as the words that plunk to the ground when he talks

-Sasch

I Crave

Jayne2 Comments

I crave instant gratification and

the lure of feel good meetings

with hollow words.

I want those things too

And sometimes I do indulge.

But it all leads to an empty that aches.

You know,

those scratches you can’t itch

And even though I know this,

I still have to remind myself

those things are empty

and that I’m better off home

creating something of substance

 

-Saschia

Ruined

JayneLeave a comment

The makeup drips down her face

Black tears

There’s more to all this

She knows it

She feels it in her bones

Even though it was wrong

She knows that too

But there was this push much stronger than before

An urge she’s never felt

She wasn’t herself or was she

Is this what being alive feels like?

It comes and goes, that feeling

Alive, is fighting the urge. It’s the torment you feel when you walk away. When he walks away. That is the alive. But, to give in, to go wherever you are pushed, that is no more than a dead leaf in the wind. Stripped from the branches. Stripped from life itself.

This moment you have as a dead leaf is your chance to fall apart, to sink into the soil, and to become part of the regrowth next spring.

You are not ruined

-Saschia