The Power of Lovers (Original Poem)

My thoughts become wrapped up in the very idea of you,
hypnotized by the memory of being enveloped in your arms,
of being held tightly
while teased into a fervor of passion
with the gentlest of caresses along the tops of my breasts.
Your fingers pull and flick at my nipples,
as you simultaneously
pull a moan from my lips.
When you suck and nip at my ear,
the warmth of your breath drives me even further
into a frenzy
until I am at risk of losing myself completely
in your scent
as it surrounds and sticks to my naked flesh
pressed so closely to your own nude body.
Limbs intertwined,
hands roaming,
hips moving of their own accord
to that most ancient of rhythms
known to all lovers who’ve given themselves
freely one to the other.

The Beginning of Love (An Original Poem)

Under your skin,
just below the surface,
where you hide your disdain
for normalcy,
sparkles a
near imperceptible
glimmer of
Passion.
It twinkles at the corners of
your mouth
when you say my name,
as if the
mere utterance of that combination
of vowels and consonants
cracks through
the stormclouds
above the chasm
where you hide
your heart
(like lightning)
allowing the love
to trickle up,
reverse raindrops of
ineffable joy
that water your smile,
still only a smirk
but wholly genuine.
Though the words have been
surrounded by
a barrage of sarcasm,
know that it is ever so evident
what you mean to say,
and know,
I love you, too.

Pistanthrophobia (Original Poem)

The Pirate and I had… a misunderstanding… or something. He was having a bad day, said I was being smothering, which I can see, and possibly agree with, but to me, the “why” is always the key. Why was I being smothering? Because something didn’t feel right. I have not been able to read his intentions, or what he thinks about me, and while he says with his words that he finds me interesting, and wants to keep me around… he’s shown no interest in ME, my life, my past, my hobbies. Every conversation goes back to the topics he’s interested in, or stories of his life. 

I found that it bothered me. I found that I wanted some sign, that wasn’t asked for, that he was actually interested in ME. As such, I couldn’t back off like he asked… I never seem to be able to do that, because it makes me nervous. It’s happened before, and it will probably happen again with the next guy, as I’m sure the Pirate is done with me. And several people feel that I should be done with him as well. I think I was building up to that, maybe? I don’t know. I know I’m sad at the thought. 

He posted a word on Instagram, one I did not know, and it (plus my actual feelings) are the inspiration for this poem.  Continue reading

Alliterative Verse: Poetry for my Aspie Mind

One of the things that I’ve been trying really hard to work on lately has been to write more. Writing is a major part of who I am, and who I want to be. I keep telling myself I want to write fiction, and I am, but I’ve also been writing a lot of poetry lately…

Unrhyming, seemingly free-form poetry. It lacks meter and rhyme and has no discernible format.

Or at least that is how it must seem to a neurotypical person.

When I read it to myself, I hear it sing. I feel the lilt of the syllables and the pacing of the words as they roll around my tongue and into the air. It’s slight, but there is some sort of form to it, and usually it can be found in the alliteration.  Continue reading