fuck these thoughts and words that fill my head

night after night, i pray them all dead

yet every night, by light of the moon

i end up sifting through images 

 even after trying to drown them with tune

same shit to say

day after day

just adding different hues, 

as to color it in some new way

fuck this mind,

and all that constantly fills it

waking me at all hours,

with a need to type this shit

try to drown them with wine

you’d think that’d work fine?

nope, it only feeds the flame 

seeps out my mind, 

starts pumping through my veins

it’s sort of like some damned disease

disease? 

i wish 

then at least there’d be hope for a vaccine 

~j~

I see it now.
You weren’t the man.
Rough waters came.
You let loose.
Ran.
Stood on shore
to watch me drown,
then turned your back,
went into town;
dry shoes, dry clothes,
dried your eyes, wiped tears,
went home 
and drown yourself
in all your fears.

.j.

This night is
one of those nights,
those nothing’s quite right
without you holding me tight
kind of those nights.

The eve is
one of those eves,
those ache ’til you shake
and you feel your heart break
kind of those eves.

This hour is
one of those hours,
those need ’til you bleed,
pray my words you do heed
kind of those hours

.j.

:words:

some of them flirty
some of them dirty
some of them nervy
{most of them, not worthy}
thrown about this page, overtly
some accidental, some intended
just hanging around, suspended
there all me, just sort of blended

now, 
if i just had someplace to take them for walk, 
off this page, 
with the proper soul, 
that isn’t easily offended,
well, that would be
fucking splendid! 

~j~

b.s.

Sorry,

 I just don't feel the sincerity

 of your words.

They certainly don't stroke

like your tongue.

.j.

writing with wine ~ never good

lucky fucking pea

he’d done went and escaped

why that little renegade

run pea, run. before they call the brigade 

and bring your ass back, to your worst fate

a shitty pasta salad, on grandmas plate

run pea, run. don’t stop, don’t hesitate

i get it, your spirits to big to be caged

the cry of that big world out there, it does stimulate

so run pea, run far, then celebrate

and pea, i hope your spirit, it does now resonate

‘cuz even if  you did return
 and try to sparkle up this shit pasta salad,

these bitches,

will just keep talking up the  lemonade.

~j~ 

It’s a red dress

kind of a day.

A shake it off,

doesn’t matter,

get outta my way

kind of a day.

A false smile,

hair done right,

me? 'outta sight!'

kind of a day.

A well rehearsed

life’s been good,

like it should

kind of a day.

~j~

Red Wine

 + 

Bubbles Filling a Tub

+

Hozier ~ Singing Van
 so loud you can hear him 

while completely submerged

=

Therapy    [squared]

We once were vibrant.

Bittersweet cherry.

Ultramarine.

Hues the world

had never see.

We once were brilliant.

Tickled pink.

Apricot.

We always knew.

We never thought.

We now are muted.

Obsidian.

Granite grey.

With thanks to words

too hard to say.

.j.

glass of wine

find the will

find the right light

lose the stage fright

take a deep breath

let it all go

while wondering 

does he even know

no matter the pixels or resolution

its of no substitution

for what i really want him to view

what i long to put his body through

this desire isn’t captured in one shot

this intensity for his touch, you just cannot

fit in one quick image

so please, just pay me a visit

stay for awhile or all through the night

but give me the chance, so that i just might

show you the images you long to see

then log them to your memory, 
while your deep inside me

~j~

The boy

 who will get my love,

will quit 
trying

to catch 
this heart

that I dangle

and drag.

He won’t
just 
kind of

reach for it,

bend to it,

seek for it.
Nope,
he’ll just know how to

tend to it.

He’ll simply notice it such,
covered in smudge,
being drug through the grass,
protected by ‘sass’
He won’t be timid,
won’t need gimmicks,
He'll just stomp it hard

with the heel

of his shoe

and It’ll
 knock
 me
flat

And well,
that’ll be that!

~j~

Weekends

dark dance floor, 

... and well, i’ll be damned..

i like where you have the nerve to slide your hand

i hear what your suggesting

and i feel your body expressing

all your ideas,  and dirty visions

and honestly,  i respect your ambitions

but those ideas of yours,  well,  i have all the best

and i don’t mean to be harsh, but you smell like all the rest

i’m sure you look grand, all hot and undressed

but it takes so much more for me to even be impressed

i mean, i don’t even know your name

so, on this dance floor, is where this moment will remain

because really, i hate this game

it just reeks of pure shame

and anonymous sex for me, is quite lame

see, i don’t think this takes much effort

and honestly, i’m worth so much better
for me, i need at least ‘knowing’, hell, even some ‘basic info'

oh, you like random sex? then kindly move on to the next bimbo

see, i have to be intrigued, fascinated, interested, and stimulated

 then all sexual possibilities are completely unlimited  

you see theres this darker child, she lives within

she’s been through a lot of shit in her life 

 {where would i begin?}

she’s gotta trust you

maybe even 'look up to’

she’s gotta know one hand 

is gentle, pure, and good

and the other hand has the confident strength,

 to show her why she should

and that’s the hand she likes best

that’s the hand, that will surely get her undressed

and beware, 

if your someone who can tap into her ’sexual-sense'

she’ll definitely open up

 and she can be pretty fucking intense 

but you?  i don’t mean to laugh at your expense

it’s not really you,  it’s me,  so don’t take offence

the stimulation i need,

 requires layers, depth, and serious passion

and someone who i trust will be able to handle

 all this sexual aggression 

for i have a need to be ‘j’ ..and not get lost in translation

but hey, watch that other hand,

 because that’s not an ‘ok location'

 truth be told,  i don’t mind all this flirtation

but flirt all you want,  there will still be no penetration 

as long as you know,  you don't intrigue me deeper

and this night for you, just keeps looking bleaker.

~j~

You, me
and my
lingerie.

What say we
get together
and make it
a day?

Play your
cards right,
we might make it
a night.

Then you’ll truly know
I’m not bark,
I’m all bite.

~j~

You’re going to
wake up one morning
and discover
that I’ve become
just another
red lipstick stain
on your
white cotton sheets.

You’re going to
go to bed one evening
and discover
that you’ve become
just another
one of those boys
who wasn’t
good enough for me.

~j