pulsating ~ bad girl ~ lust

it's
the type of itch
that wont go away...
until
it

gets
scratched

deep, underneath, hidden
until knees weaken and blood rushes to pulsating portion
the formation of contorted limbs
wrapped around your legs like vines
we're wildly intertwined

only in my mind
does the itch cease
when you assist her crease with your piece
and place my piece between your teeth

and

take me to that place where the itch ceases
I'm broken like tiny micropieces
of paint chips
from the wall behind the headboard

I've lost
I'm lost
you've got the winning score
I'm
no
more
good

bad girl

I should leave but my heads sore
cant make it to the door
to open it
moment before
I rose from your bed of lust to go
you pulled me forward
closer toward--you
and did once again what you do--so well

scratching my itch until it ceases
whenever I itch
for you.

note.

note.
we hustle in the maze
with no more cheese in the place than yesterday
still we still stay, grind
flow with the times
rewind the depression
perhaps reason for lesson--a recent exception
yin to the yang of rejection, shyt was stepped in
redirection of objective
test is multiple choice
the course, molten and coarse of course
note.
note the source reveals
wheel of fortune not always so fortunate
still, resort to rat
report reports back
locked in tiny boxes remote, detached
the race is on
and less than half way through--the race near gone
consciously contrived
manipulation derived
strive to break loose
note.
refuse to continue
break stride and stroke
nevermind the coax
remind your mind to look
beyond the throat,
third eye sees lies beyond
act-ions
note.