Postcard From A Trophy Fuck

The ghost of relations past haunts me.

Our one night stand left a lifetime imprint.

I’ve scrubbed where your lips and hips

met my eager frame,

But the grime of our lust had already soaked through.

I’m tainted.

I was your trophy fuck.

Earned through a sweat filled night

of tackles and throws,

now exiled to the archives of fucks gone by.

Is the memory of that night still vivid?

Can you still hear my voice in your ear?

Remember how you trembled at the height of our passion?

How a cold sweat condensed on our skin

and how we clung to each other for warmth?

Or has it been thrown into a montage of orgasms and genitals?

Trivialized like a morning’s constitutional?

Discarded like an empty condom wrapper?

Replaced like a soiled feminine lining?

I’m angry.

I was just one of your frivolous fucks.

Simply placed in your collection of porcelain pussies,

assigned a number, left to collect dust

and watch you acquire the others.

Homecoming

Explosive passion warmed once frigid sheets.
Tangled flesh fused in anticipation;
in an instance their union will complete,
sparking immense amounts of elation.
Her genie grants her unspoken wishes
of pleasure filling her bare reservoir
with feelings satisfyingly delicious.
She’s impressed with her lover’s repertoire.
Savory sweet sauces comingle in tune,
as trembling tendons suffer fatigue.
Mind numbing sensations start to consume,
two tired bodies no longer in need.
     The soldier and his queen lay in silent bliss.
     Thoughts of being apart no longer exist.

Drunken Ballad to a Lost Love

I'm trying to resist these drunken temptations to admit how much
I miss the drunken sensations you caused.
I pause while an eternal battle forges on between the bold & senseless.
Both relentless in their quest to prove my sober mind to be total farce;
and my heart caught in the middle with only the twiddle of thumbs to keep it occupied
Should I lie & say this is an easy goodbye?
I try to conjure sober consciousness while wrapped in an inebriated state.
Is it too late to stop my subconscious from embarking on a mistake the authority of my sober mind condemns?
It won't end until rebellion leads me into satisfactory destruction.
Will it be then that I will function or is the damage to far gone?
Am I wrong to hope you will change?
See the errors of your ways & live with me in storybook bliss.
I will miss the fantasies I've created with you as my Prince Charming.
Happily ever after without care & only laughter isn't destined for us.
The impression you've left was only a suggestion not a rule.
You were cruel & tortured my heart under the heated glass of school boy idleness.
I am not upset just unsettled that you weren't worth the trophy case I put you in.
As we begin to search for separate things on separate paths,
I wonder if we would be happy in another world.
One without the shallow or the mundane,
just endless love shared equally between our frames.
It is there I will wait for you, all cliques ready in hand.
And love will pour from our hearts and pool where we stand.

A Puzzle Beyond Solving

What makes her so special?
Is it the shape of her hips
and how they fit
in the grove of
your hands and lips?
Is it her mouth
and the way
it curls seductively
when you whisper
explicit rhymes
in her ear?
Your reasoning behind choosing her
in spite of me
escapes the path of logical thinking.
A dime a dozen woman will never add up to a dollar.
Her cookie cutter treats bears no comparison
to my unique and delectable eats.
Your tastes are beyond my comprehension
yet still leave a familiarly bitter taste in my mouth.
Will I ever satisfy your taste buds?
Or are they forever tainted by artificial flavors?
Have you forgotten I am quality gourmet cuisine?
Sadly, you’ve made a choice to
solely satisfy your hunger with food court comfort,
which only provides empty sustenance
yet lacks long time substance.
But the loin wants…what the loin wants,
and there is no reasoning with a mindless groin.

In Memoriam

It hurts.
No amount of eloquent, carefully placed words,
can’t capture the pain numbing every fiber of my being.
I fractured my heart due to my own negligence,
and am now suffering the consequences.
I did the selfless thing which left me
with me, myself and I
to mourn the loss of possibilities.

Limbo

I’ve reached a crossroads.
I’m at the corner of Don't Give A Fuck Avenue
and Give It Just One More Try Boulevard.
My internal GPS crashed and left me
without sense or direction.
The human map is officially lost.

Moving in either direction has consequences;
ones that I’m not sure I want to face.
I’m fucked if I move,
I’m fucked if I don’t.

Choosing the lesser of two evils,
still leaves me on a road
headed straight towards
a custom fit personal hell.

The peanut gallery has no words of wisdom,
just ballads of ridicule;
so it looks like I have to do this solo.
Paranoia has me convinced
whichever foot I start off on
will be a step in the wrong direction.

Should I linger to see if fate will show me favor
and send me down the path laced with good intentions
and even better returns?
Or should I trust intuition against my lack of better judgment?

There is no future living in this purgatory.
I must move on to pastures free of uncertainty,
leaving the baggage I’ve collected behind
and embrace the unknown and all its possibilities.

All I Do Is Win

As hot tears betray my eyes
and fall in front of you,
I wonder what’s going through your mind.
Your disregard for my feelings is apparent,
I just hope you don’t take my show of emotion,
as a sign of weakness.
The pain you’re causing is forcing
the excuses out of my body.
I can win.
I will win.
Proving you wrong is the one goal I hold
high above all others.
I will trade sleep for success.
I will trade pleasure for persistence.
Winning is now my sole occupation
and moving forward that is all I will do.