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~A Bouquet of Surprise-Me-Nots~

A doomed well wish
may sooth become.

What then pray you
might be undone

A thirst so vile
vicious and done

A slight imagined
where dreams have gone

Feigned friend beseech
I sought you some

Time felled beneath
all that I'd done

So paled the friend
so monotoned

So impact the rips
the stones that stoned

flung from behind
grinning teeth that shone

All hisses now
upon gnawed bone

So chew bare
I the whetstone

For cutting pleasure
for blood, a cone

Drink up, my Lass
Condemn alone

As a future dims
you make your bones.

Feast heartily quick
before scrutiny comes.

COMMENTS

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Cadrewolf2
08:58 Jul 30 2025

great

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POST COMMENT

~Pulchritudinous~

Don't you see that I've survived?
Survived things that you never understood?
Like women setting our relationships on fire
just to fingerpaint with the soot.

And don't color me sane
just for handling this pane
like no other really expectedly should...
Like From crying from sills and putting up stills
of the sceneries freezeframed with skills
that dimmed the jumping urge which filled...
me... while this window of which by I stood.

Through windows untold and fauxships unnumbered
I've waded through and found myself aptly encumbered.
My soul is just a soul, nothing more, you're remembered.
And I'll turn my soul black, if it wasn't already.
And what taste my dreams lack, your tongue eating mismatched, and was still found hungrily ready.
But if I turn it this way, I can eat my own dreams like a little pig, sweaty
Cuntsume all your actions like a medicine healthy.

And survive once again, and again with the boils of contempt
and imaginings of hatred but spent.
Skin laced with sores after hearing your touch
cursed with but lies about lies which were everything... but not much.
And the leprosy cursed, I was spoon-fed each verse
bound and gagging of the kink, was now terse.

Mommy Dommy please abuse me! Hated terms, lie down, use me.
Twisted the beggings from "Pathetics. Doms", amuse me.
Strapped on Switch, like your stories did bore me.
Bore into my thoughts as your truths that adore me.
My soul blackens as you tell me... about me
Unpunly Choked on my own ego, as you lovingly lied about me.

Black as midnight, black as pitch... blacker than the foulest,
Which... coincided with hidden tears from the proudest,
eyes... Witch. But which is darkest? Perhaps the loudest,
lies. Never recanting nigh embellishing falsely truths, pitched.
Upon those willful ears, and forks of tongues quite stitched
One story told me. One story told switched.

And whereth doth lie, the barest of truths, do they lie?
upon wishes wished fondly, living self lived on that bed of truth, lie?
Sought deepest peace where that wondered basis of comparison lies.
And wonder if you indeed come from where there are penalties when a woman lies...