Nonfiction – The Paramour

Body Count

My fingers caresses my clit while I rock back and forth on my partner’s pelvis.

Our moans sync together like the perfect harmony.

His hands rise against the side of my body and my hands reach to my hair,

untying it and pulling my long hair pins.

My hips rock faster and his head falls deeper into the pillow.

While he’s directed and overwhelmed with pleasure,

I take the hair pins and force them into his chest.

The man gasps and rises his head to look at his chest and me.

I smirk as I slowly drag the pins down his thick chest, enjoying the sound of his screams.

He attempts to get me off him,

But my pin had ripped his heart in half,

So there wasn’t much for him to do.

Once his movements has creased,

I pulled himself out of me

And slipped the pins back into my hair.

I reach for my phone to unlock it

And mark him down as body number thirty-two.

Haunting Desires

My god,

I can taste you in my dreams.

Your hands on my curves,

Your lips on my nipple.

I can feel you against my walls.

Your voice lingering on the side of my neck as it leads me to orgasm.

I can smell you as well.

The smell of weed mixed with cheap vodka enlightens my body and soul.

I can see you in my dreams.

Your presence is noticed before you even walk in.

Your smile can easily bring me to my knees.

You fuel my lustful fantasies,

My haunting desires.

You’re all I need

And I will do everything,

And anything,

It takes to have you as mine

And mine only.

Easter Day

On Easter Day,

I was speaking with my parents

And my father brings up a few memories of when I was younger.

The first memory was a time when my parents paid someone to do work on our front yard.

He mentions how I watched the man from afar

As he trimmed the trees and assorted the rocks along the house.

Once he was finished, my father told me that I went up to him and asked him to give the man a tip.

And he did.

He gave the man the rest of the money for an already expensive job

And sent him on his way.

The second memory was during spring.

My neighbor is known for housing several rabbits.

One day, our boxer chased a rabbit and attacked him.

My father recalls that I ran to the bunny and

“Prayed” over the bunny.

Then, once our boxer was out of sight

The bunny got up and ran away.

Do I remember these memories?

No.

Or at least not in that way.

I find that

Underneath my protective, horrifying exterior,

There’s just a sweet girl,

Wanting and arching for good in the world

And herself.

That Girl

I didn’t kill that girl,

That girl from years ago.

She is still alive,

But watches from afar.

I feel her presence when

I am in love.

She’s next to me when

I am walking alone,

In our own private world.

She’s smiling when

I wear feminine dresses and skirts.

She’s holds me when

I cry the same way I did

All those years ago.

She prays with me at night

To the moon.

She understands

And she’s not mad at me.

My Love

My love is too intense for any

Mortal soul.

I need someone old,

Someone ancient,

Someone knowledgeable,

To understand the love I possess.

My love digs deep into the soul,

Deep into the crust,

Into the core.

My love burns and scorches,

My love is not for the weak.

My love will bury you alive

And torture you

Until you give in,

My love will eat you alive

And haunt you until you’re fully mine.

It is not for the weak

So be aware of what you have signed up for.

Consumption of Love

Eyes as blue and deep as the sea,

I feel like I’m drowning.

Your touch fills me with warm liquid and ecstasy.

The taste of your tongue is the only thing I want in my mouth.

You fit so perfectly inside me,

It will be hard to convince me our parts weren’t made for each other.

I exist because of you,

I was born to love and cater to you.

I am under your spell and I refuse to be released from it.

If there’s a God, it would be you

And I would be your faithful follower.

Waiting Game

What did this world hold for me?

What kind of things will be given to me?

Will I have the perfect home?

With green, lively plants scattered around and cats laying in the sun.

Will I have the man of my dreams?

The one who shows interest in me and brings me inner peace.

Will I succeed as a writer?

My words will arouse the reader and eat them alive, as they do me.

Will I be doing all of this

For nothing?

Only time will tell.

Brain Dead

My brain is broken.

I can’t write,

I can’t read,

I can’t fuck.

My mind is filled with many thoughts,

Some useless and many horrifying.

Is this the death of my creative mind?

Is this the death of my erotic nature?

Oh, how I wish

I could cut open my head,

Pull out my brain,

And squeeze the content onto the white pages.

I need to feed my desire,

I need to feed my readers,

I need to feed my obsession.

To my lover

Wake me up from this wicked dream with a kiss.

Grab me,

And drag me

To the other side of the bed.

Fuck me until I’m weak,

Love me until I’m sick.

Cover me in soft, fresh linens

And bring me breakfast in bed.

My body is yours to pull and twist.

Give me a child so I can end this everlasting nightmare

and create peace within me.

My darling, I am your rag doll

And I’d do anything to please you.

Unforgettable

I am unforgettable.

I am one of one.

When you leave me,

You will always look for me.

You will look into their eyes

And try to pull together fragments of me.

Fragments of my love,

Fragments of my voice,

Fragments of my heart.

But all you will find

Is the empty void I have left you with.

And I hope that ruins you.