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See now, the spiked shadows creeping up under, into my eyes.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
Page:
I've bonked a couple. Take that how you wish.
Ever hit a hooker?
First time. I usually just scream, "I am the law!" While pummelling.
English_Bloke wrote:
and you're not a law onto
> yourself laddie.
How many times have you actually said that?
and you're not a law onto
> yourself laddie.
How many times have you actually said that?
I read it and it was moist with the usual FFF stuff.
Would have been over the 450 word count and you're not a law onto yourself laddie. Good, but not going to win.
Would have been over the 450 word count and you're not a law onto yourself laddie. Good, but not going to win.
True.
At least someone read your story.
Mine's festering.
At least someone read your story.
Mine's festering.
I thought it was 450.
Ah well, it was my idea anyway. You can all shut up.
Just cause I'd beat you all anyway.
Ah well, it was my idea anyway. You can all shut up.
Just cause I'd beat you all anyway.
yumyum. But that's wayway over 200 wordys.
200 word limit.
459 word total.
Asshat.
459 word total.
Asshat.
See now, the spiked shadows creeping up under, into my eyes.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
Dipping into the blue - and beyond, deeper down the slime-slick trail to you.
No, my love, stay close now. Stay close - I cannot drag these chains behind, I must be tethered, undefined. Edge of the forest, edge of the heart - watching and weighting ‘til the green tint part.
Smells - inexplicable, dearest, they no longer matter - curl tight against the brick, swapping cool lace for the flare of the wick. And here I stay, crouched up, cut muddied and weak - the salves, the slaves, leave the wounds to weep.
Neversleep.
Neversleep.
Yet the vines grow on, around me stretch and swell. Toil and toll the bone-wrought bell, sending fragile shoots to smile about my half-latch hell. Your eyes burn out among the trees, brown by fresh-cut, elm-hewn breeze - bittersweet, a breath away, detached by wind-swept mental sway.
On this hard-bake rock I bleed, again alone in familiar land,
The Rider’s cape and eager seed, rusted bonds grind the stone to sand.
He tips his hat and mounts you up, mocking eyes dripping horse chestnut sap, switch-back promise tops it all. the closer you creep, the further you fall ;; the soothing, grinding piston sweat, the flesh-won, half-floggéd debt. I knew it, w***e, I knew the first time we met.
But it’s not your fault. Blossom hearts are fragile gifts, placed to tend the screaming rifts - the burning lashes, tepid life ashes. You are the innocent, the pure, pale hand forced by dark, sharp claw. Through the forest, wood stem grows, thrown to the desert, the Hunter knows.
He forced your hand, like he forced your legs apart - forced the blade right into my heart, and cut, deep, around the bloom-stem start. Around the whitest, loving core, around your untainted, giving, pure - pure as water, pure as life, cutting me away with the poisoned knife.
And left me here, alone. Around my eyes the shadow grows.
As I stare back, past the forest of your soul, past the chains to what remains - our perfect home among the green, our fragile haven, you the queen. Cut away, rotted back, his creeping vines widen the crack - shifting up our tended track, his bloated lies fill what he said you lack.
On he plays, lazy notes through lazy days - drifting through the trees, ripe on taunting, rancid breeze. Spreading, slowly, what once was mine - is there anything left of what I left behind? His corrupted domain, and you the core, as he nails you slowly to the floor.
My loving trait, smashed clean from the wall.
He grins, thrusts and I wonder if I ever had you at all.
Page: