Break Me

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break me

make me,
give me no other choice,
pull me from within myself,
over and over,
as many times as it takes

take me,
with presence,
with words and eyes before fingertips,
have no mercy,
make me yours

consecrate me,
force me to focus all my energy,
give me but one purpose,
claim my devotion,
coaxing it all to the surface

overtake me,
push me to my limit, then beyond,
catch me, love me,
make me,
never forsake me

but, please, oh please

break me

Secret

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she is pure want;
she wants him more in this moment than she’s ever wanted anything

wrapping her legs around him,
all she wants is for him to do whatever pleases him;
she wants him to do it all

and he does,
he does what pleases him,
greedy, carnivorous, taking –
but she is greedy, too

you see,
that’s the secret he knows about her –
she is no different than he is;
she wants, she needs,
her blood boils just as much

its tangible, this not-so-secret,
it’s evident in the way he seems to be consuming her like he never has before:
hungrier, thirstier, more demanding,
as if he wishes to meet greed with more greed,
to coax it all to the surface into one consumous energy

and she can feel it, this coaxing,
in her blood, in the electric current connecting every neuron,
every square inch of her

placing her hand upon his chest,
reaching out as if to grasp his energy,
there is his heart, exposed,
right in the palm of her hand

he fucks her as if the world were about to end,
as if he could never get enough,
as if she were all he needed

whiskers tickle-scraping the soft skin of her neck,
she can feel the rhythmic heat inside him,
all that heat that also resides in her

she feeds his hunger, quenches his thirst,
melts into his every demand,
and finds a place inside her, so deep –
once secret, but no longer

he says her name in a growling moan,
and then she’s gone –
she’s shattered into pure energy,
absorbed into the smolder, that heat,
and she finds herself crying

the cold that once owned her rises to form a single sob,
as she arches her head back,
wrapping herself around him,
tighter still

that’s when she knows –
there is no way to measure this communion,
this transformation,
this living, growing thing that is both chaos and understanding –
no earthly scale will do

only hearts can feel and souls can know;
only theirs

-image via Tumblr

Alive

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he pulled me to him,
he pulled me into his lap,
so I was able to see directly into his steely eyes,
the way they go on forever,
the way they see right to my center

he ran his hand down my too-rigid spine,
and I felt everything in his fingertips;
there was no past,
no regret,
no resentment

it was just him –
skin, muscle, bones, blood,
the pull and squeeze of his familiar heart

it was Him,
all mine,
wanting me to be His

and so I let go,
I gave up,
gave in

I stopped fighting being alive