Its not anger.

your worst fucking nightmare.
what you escape from will follow you and swallow and you will be disgusted at what you have done.
your mercy at my will.my body in the hands of too many people.
tell me, its a choice you make.
your own breath begins to betray your entity, it stifles you like a psychotic killer on the roar, rape and bury you in cold mud.
across those moss beaten stones, you shall lay in a tangled mess of occult inscribed pages,sadly just a rotting partially decayed stench filled mass.
Go find her, plead and make love to her.
Before I hope you die.

Its not easy being tall

watch your step, you shall falter.
be floated upon a boat down to the other side,the darker.
eat a few embers of ash, its sweat and sweat of effort is called perspiration,pretend to be faultless.
Falter - Faultless
Pseudonyms.
Chant your secret words in husk smelling air dust.Confiscate your vices, cause its choking you to the end, dragging, shaking, you want to break free, just run and jump into cold water and bounce back to fall into the same haze of purple ink,no sniffs, too concentrated.Spread let indigo slither and spray some mily sparkles of ash.
The one that you tasted in the beginning.
Now bend.
Let me enter that arch in the building, being tall is not easy :(

Durga.

No no take a peek all the pervs, all the women can say vivid things.
But yes this is femininity aggression and lust for you.
This photoshoot took long and inspired something as well.
Here's to the sustainer, the fertility of the womb.

Durga.

paint on some war
on your lip
let eyes reek of agony
of apocalypse
and your son
ceases to bury his ego
at your lotus feet

So you shall crush him
Underneath
Cause a lotus grows in
murky waters,
swans surround which,
to increase
the beauty of dirt

The stench of rotting carcasses
Dizzied the ones mortal yet
As she stood on a needle
One toe holding her
All, no complain.
Pain she turned into
Focused frustration
And borrowed a boon each
From the ones she had gifted
Like a lesson to them
Of how to use them
With the destruction
A woman can bring about.
More subtle than
Beyond the feeling
Of begging for liberation.

She reached out to the inner
Coronary flesh
Embedded under locks
That made serpents look tame
A luscious flow
Of soft curls that
Tickled her brow
And bore her sweat in it
As she endured
Ripping apart
Her own self
One single long tear
Half undone
Symmetry was surprised.

And pulled out a memory
Where the creator had
Entrusted the secrets of
Burning the womb
And making vile lil ones
And bathe it in nectar for
The most obedient son.

As crimson red adorned
her forehead
sign of spouse
his life
your only excuse
from the life you wanted to live.
Pain of never being
Oozed and colored her disheveled
And she realized
Nine more days to go
As she stood on one toe
The needle tearing skin
Entering within

Poisoned now, in purest blood
it lost direction
and wanted to surrender
give up and flee, but
it’s a needle, not a sword.

Adorned in fates grandeur
Lips beckon
Eyes full of brimming
moisture, that holds in it
Clandestine of something
More than what meets the eye.
Take a dip in her tears
Each drop
More costly than all of pain
Bundled and thrown into a blackhole
Before you realize
Pleasure and its worth
After a much longer bout of pain

And she is the truth
In you.
Awaken her, gaze at
That radiance
Like a dip in spiced
aroma tea, all four chakras
under light
surfacing on your sleeve
wear, your heart there.
And white light will blind thee.

And speak to the tree
Its leaves each tell a different story
Atop the last branch that touches heaven
Shall you find, Nirvana, someone’s
Backdoor leads to illusion and some call it fantasy.
But look into the visitors eye
He will tell of snippets lost in time
Of grazing an endless path
The weariness that sets in
Once you know the path wont take you
To your home.

And as pearly drops of juice
Honeysweet nectar of a warriors exile
Spill into your water pot
And there you thank her,
For eternally blessed shrine
That you laid
On the strongest muscles across
Your stomach.

Wild animals roamed
Around her, in a lament
That she didn’t feel the need
To call upon them,

A broken wing of garlic
Plopped in a hot brewing soup
The whiff of this delicacy
With a pinch of melancholy
Spread,
And all those who ate religion
Never reached spirituality.
a bowl full of reality,

offerings not sympathy

Ps:Darn its incomplete and if you had the patience to go through that, I'm honored.

No, for godsake, it aint soft porn.

The changes were just an effort from my side to prove I am not always under influence,intoxicated,blah.
I dont even know why I need to justify.
Well lets just say Im tired.
Exhausted.
And I am miserably failing in health.

Maybe next, we see, each other would be on a stormy night on the outskirts of town in a small clearing of blooming tamed flowers, nannied by a wheel chaired girl, brown locks dark piercing eyes et all.
Tattooed and dredded, eyebrows shaved off?
Coughing like a midnight howl, of a broken cloud,thundering.

Just seventeen.Oh damn.
Slaughtered, burnt, faded.
Flung,ignored,forced,used.
Lost.

I write stories, not my own though.
So stop assuming I am the dying bride, sweating in agony of being in the dross of love made last.

I could be your dirt.
I could be your fire.
Anything you please, mould me.
And two nights apart you won't see me anymore.
Cause I shall be gone, dragged by those visions of myriad colors, tucked in her bosom for protection from all.
A womb more protected that the womb itself.
Embedded.

So, the point is I am not propagating soft porn.
Though Id love to shoot for a photographer who needs a muse.

dirt

In a subtle blink
Flashes of misery
Pass through you,
As you see her cover it all up
With just as much as toilet paper
As you’d use when you didn’t
Use the pot.

Meager were her needs
But she wanted more
Of you, only thing she shouldn’t
Have wanted.

Plant a lily
It ceases to grow
Build a cement wall
And the rain water pushes its crevices
And seeps in through
Those vary, very little
Joints in the wall.
Like us.
But it gets collected
In the earthen urn
That was set, in a flourish
Of the smart housewives
Experience in living in that dingy hut,
But who cares, says she
You seemed to have enough place in
Your head for her.
Show it sometimes.

I can yodel in pain
Just to make it a fancy lament
If only you could hear it
Those few miles away,
Not in distance, mind you.
But in wrapped up layers
Inside the brain
That separate us, now.

And I try to write pain
In lengthy paragraphs
While you borrow letters
And decorate them in your head
Still wanting to form a sentence.

And I sleep in thrifty yawns
Curling up in fetal,
Fatal, before I bid my last good bye.

Last,
Because then,
I will start over again.
Trying to win you over.
Like a cherry dipped in chocolate
Till the last bite.
I will eat all of you.
Gorge all the dirt in you.

And set you free.
all your bad caged inside of me.

Purple Dreams

A pebble plopped
into the stagnant
ripples of yawns
drawn across your painted face

The flute hums
a moronic melody
of silent slumber
seated on your lip

And those eyelashes reek
the purple dust
of a fairy that curled
upon your brow
left as a token

And aftertaste of
a satiated meal
that binds you in immortal sleep

Tied in polythene curves
rupture
tiny needles
that pierce
satin skin

And she will still
lay enveloped
in that drunken stupor
amidst the bosom
where petals cover her
away from veracity

And as she stretched in
her cocoon that
so wrapped her
it lengthened
and split
and air bubbles gushed
inside
to stifle her
with reality

And she twisted and turned
And engulfed more of their impurity
with every breath
unknowingly
and a little of her soul
maimed,
each time

The sparks of mortality
perished inside her

And froze the timeless moments
And her preserved sanity

And one last whiff
And that final
chord of the music note
welcomed her across Lethe

As the ferryman
carried her
in her tattered cocoon
across to the other side

She lived a dream
and she will perish in one

Conquering the corporeal

She still remained
Incomplete in her self
of the consequences
and of all the reality
she could not live

That she choose not to.

Dedicated To myself.

I might learn to be selfish.I will.Lets hope.

Dirty You

In little steps of a waddling duck
she treads the thorns
on you

a rose bud
plucked
torn apart

she walks in the wilderness
of an unknown path

and you tie her
and your breath stinks
she scuffles
and screams

gag her
and pat her to sleep
the little one
she purrs

stroke her
oh no
she hates you
you lust her

pluck her petals
and she sobs
in bouts of waterfall

the flow of a river
maimed
she hides in shadows
in petty disdain

in full bloomed spring
she lies bereft
touch her
she shrivels
in knots of pain

blood bonds
remain, now
fully messed

as she climbs the waterfall
of death

and a year
after years
still hallucinates
she, tears
her fully clothed stature
under the water that
bestowed upon her the shower

in naked spasms
of blind thought
she blames herself
for your want

and cursed you shall lie
and childless
till she disappears
in your ugliness

Shred her
with kisses of perverted joy
and she stares at you
as she bores into your conscience

and burns you down
she touches you back
and plucks you out
of the inhuman stack

she dusts you off
again
and again

she spills you in the muck
and drinks raindrops
to satiate hate

but open her up
she lay tight
suffocate her in grips
and she drowns

again on the cliff
she finds
coursing through solitude
a jump, withheld
now done

in gasping heights
she rises
and there she touches perdition
and in flames
her feathers lay
broken and disheveled

play, repeat
reap
sin
touch skin

and bubbles engulf you
and strangle
those thoughts
that the dirty pawns of your mind played

Child Abuse, should have a severe punishment.

Dedicated to all those who feel the same.

The Puppet

The string etched marks
on her skin
as they bore deeper into
her flesh
like a shooting star
in all its brilliance
inside of her womb
a gazillion bursting
sparks of flame

He pulled the reins
on her
and gave her the stature she deserved
a bending puppet
brought to life
with a workmanship so fine
she deceived all into
believing she was of their kind

Windswept ruins
with cotton balls covered
shafts of clay that bound her joints
from that blessed deserted area
rubbed magic onto her
and aglow
a reeking lava
overflow from the volcano

She was his muse
and she would him, please
As he bid her
through vibes of occult
and voodoo spun in miraculous cure

He bowed down
as she arose from the purifying
pyre of the destructed

And lay weak
as he blew life of mortals
into her coursing blood
and like a rebel
her choler repelled what was
not in her deserving

As she grew inside of her
what he bestowed
a life
to a puppet
swiveling in misty hues
of dark shades
beneath that pretty skin

but he faded
as he gave away
and his blood curdled
as the purity of it
was now hers

And in fear that he might burn out
she tore him right through the middle
And embedded in him herself

And she sparkled a twinkle
a blaze
like crackling fire
he stood up again

And that was them together now
in a body one
that wrapped the existence of its juxtaposed

Tuneful Void.

Pull the strings
the guitar speaks
in riffs of wincing pain
and in curved glances
poisons your mind
with aftertaste of want

slither fingers over the whites
on my piano
and glide the satin touch of your lips
with a devouring passion
over mine, mouth organ
in sparkling orgasms of black
and tiny leaps of slender
curves of the drum stick
on the cymbals
and make me rhythmically
gasp in
the wires that bind the frets
of doubt in my head
and the virgin skips
a ten fold sheen of a uni colored rainbow
to the movement of a humming bird
making love to its better half
defying gravity of lust
as he makes love
to his vocals cords
and serenades her
in baby talk
as she rains doubts of separation
and they grow into the destiny of Adams future.

Claustrophobic symphony
in the note perfect song
she planted misery
as Pandora blew up
a volcano that destroyed Pompeii.

And then again
the composition
demands him to hurt his fingers
and blood trickles
the brow of his finger
on the finesse of the string
that adorns the feminity
of his instrument of vent

And still he gave all
as loyal as Romeo was
he, to his guitar

But he bled
and winced
in painful delight
as the maiden withdrew
her hand of fate

And so he sang
and sang tonight
till howls of his pain
echoed beneath the distant moon
and the dogs of the night
accompanied his crisp melody
as they made music of their kind

-

Ahem, the titles dedicated to shippy xD

:P