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Literature Text
knifeplay
is a sharp caress
as playful as it sounds
all in good fun until someone gets hurt.
then, it feels good enough
to laugh about,
cracking your chapped lips into a grin that urges
more.
beautiful
is what your arms look like
covered in kitten-scratch kisses.
raised like pinch marks
your back, your chest,
dotted with pink-purple post-it note
love bites.
lust
is body heat,
the feel of the knife,
the pressure of lips,
of hands,
of hungry kisses.
only wanting
more, more, more.
love
is holding arms
and warmth
and gentleness.
knowing when to take the knife away,
and knowing when to hold it –
fingers clasped,
such perfect torture.
is a sharp caress
as playful as it sounds
all in good fun until someone gets hurt.
then, it feels good enough
to laugh about,
cracking your chapped lips into a grin that urges
more.
beautiful
is what your arms look like
covered in kitten-scratch kisses.
raised like pinch marks
your back, your chest,
dotted with pink-purple post-it note
love bites.
lust
is body heat,
the feel of the knife,
the pressure of lips,
of hands,
of hungry kisses.
only wanting
more, more, more.
love
is holding arms
and warmth
and gentleness.
knowing when to take the knife away,
and knowing when to hold it –
fingers clasped,
such perfect torture.
Literature
Fifteen Things
1.
I lied about never
getting in trouble in school;
once I was in a time
out in kindergarten--
I never said so,
but you already knew.
2.
I don't think I ever
lived my life without
the hidden motive
to hurt myself.
3.
Once and a while,
I pretend I'm still alive.
4.
I make myself talk
when he does
even though
my mouth feels glued
shut. It hurts to
let myself breathe
deep after the words take my air.
5.
I'd rather be hyper-aware than
unaware. That's why the
blood wins over drugs. The
endorphins work better than
hallucinogenics ever will.
6.
I don't think I know
what love means anymore.
Maybe I never really
did. I
Literature
it hurts
i know i hurt you
and...
... i silently confess,
i like that,
no...
... i love it.
you.
not
because i enjoy hurting
you
but because
you hurt
just
for me.
Literature
compulsive liar.
once i asked you your favourite
colour, and you said, "the brown
of your eyes," so i put in one green
contact and told everyone that i
came out of the womb as a factory
defect, half-priced, damaged goods.
-
sometimes i am from canada and
sometimes i am from england and
sometimes i am from spain.
i've carefully tempered my accents
and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.
"why do you lie to everyone?" you
ask.
"why not?" i reply.
-
i wear nametags that read "alicia"
and "liana" and "samantha," because
i want to know how it feels to be
someon
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for all of you who don't spend your sunday afternoons reading bdsm articles: Knife play is form of consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of physical and mental stimulation. Knives are typically used to cut away clothing, scratch the skin, remove wax after wax play, or simply provide sensual stimulation. Knife play can also be a form of temperature play or body modification. (from wikipedia)
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Comments23
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ahhh this is a beautiful poem!!