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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: I'm so Fucking Tireddots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rev.jpfadeproof
    ASL Info:    27/m/nyc
    Elite Ratio:    6.14 - 366/359/149
    Words: 479
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 585
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2732



    Description:
       Written in a rage last night. First draft and this one, as the last were written in 10 minutes of fury. Im wrong about the situation, but at least my jealous offered me two pieces.

    Post out any typos and that sort and I will fix up and polish when I;m calmed downed.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsI'm so Fucking Tireddots
    -------------------------------------------



    I’m so fucking tired!

    I’m so wasted I’m a dead man walking. Strolling to my own guillotine, in my own strength, in my right mind: as “right” of mind as one in love can be “right” of mind, L O V E; in love? - We’ve been lied to by the poets, devoured in love, strangled by love, broken in love; that would be more accurate, but I digress.

    Its unbelievable that I’m still standing, still thinking, still writing; still fucking feeling, right now. I thought for sure the Vodka and fist of pills would set me sailing.

    Oh to be a bird and fly away. Far, far, far into the deepest darkest night, there where neither heartbreak, nor humility, nor her yellow garland arms and pedal hands can grip me. There where the wind has fucking balls and the drinks are free. My balls are bull-like and as the wind, huge and thick and swinging in pride, A “FUCK OFF” to any challengers. The crown of my cock is thick and heavy and red. A fat golden scepter for all the damsels to savor, and stroke, and fuck to their delight. My cock is to be kissed every evening as the blushed moon grows wet and every morning I make her cum like dew on the earth.

    FUCK ME HARD! FUCK ME RAW! FUCK ME TIL IM BLOODY AND

    WEAK!

    I’m fucking tired of LOVING her and eating the soil that sustains her. I’m so tired of my body wrinkling like a log waiting for her. I’m tired of not moving her as the moon moves the tides. I'm so fucking fed up with losing her to guys that can never love her as I do. They will never understand that the world is majestic, and winsome as the red nose of a yaso, and all of it just for you. They can't see that you’re crystal, and sunsets, and moonbeams, and goofy looking birds, and raindrops that bounce off the ground like trampolines. They're too self-consume to ever consider your glorious laughter; or how it burst like fireworks at first and then gentle skips like pebbles after. They miss the beautiful black pearls of your eyes for tits and ass. They have no idea that your soul has swirling purple stars and iridescent unicorns, and stones that sing, and cows that jump over the sun, and hills made of gumballs.

    I’m tired of love and time, and space, and oxygen and every mother-fucking thing known to man. I’m tired of giving and bowing and picking flowers. I’m tired!

    GOD, I wish you could see and understand and be moved by my love.
    I’m done!

    Finally! These fucking things have hit me
    Goodnight, sweetheart its…

    DC




    Submitted on 2016-11-19 05:16:51     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      So much going on here. The almost violent and absolutely vulgar truth in the description of your masculinity is frustrating. I'm confused because I am not sure if it is coming from a place that glorifies the male role in a loving relationship, BC I could see that when you slow down and describe your love and the girl character here. It can actually portray a really natural dynamic. Because sex can be aggressive and wonderfully so, wild and strong and bull like as you describe the male organs, but ideas and thoughts about the girl clearly depict a cherished beloved. It is the frustration and anger that throw this piece off for me, it is fine for what it is, what you describe before you get to the body of work but what I find most incredible and substantial are the two descriptions of man and woman. It is almost like the speaker is coming from a place of imagined rejection but is unable to find real fault in himself by shoving truth and vulgarity and anger it feels defensive and almost ready to throw up walls, but then as climax happens a tenderness for the female creates a gentle truth. I think it is all very natural and maybe a bit experimental and in the end I got a lot out if it. More than just rage, more than passion but some truth about the dynamic between women and men and what that sexual and marital relationship should look like. Void of shame, tender, unapologetic, not womanizing but highlighting her feminine character by trusting her to receive such a fucking as her other qualities you pointed out are so enlightened.
    As I always say and truly mean, thank you for sharing.
    | Posted on 2017-02-22 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
      Actually, we are really close and do have feelings for each other. I'm just consumed with self-loathing at times and need healing from the past. In fact, I have broken her heart 4 times in the last 4 months. I've left her and devoted her. She has never once treated me unkind. She is quite amazing and lovely.

    this is definitely not a one sided thing, but for some reason I'm just not secure in her feelings and I fall to rage and fly into jealousy. Its gotten a lot better and today we are even closer. Its funny because these two hard writes are among her favorites.

    thanx again.

    JP
    | Posted on 2016-11-19 00:00:00 | by rev.jpfadeproof | [ Reply to This ]
      Your love fuels your tenderness which fuels your rage which fuels your vocabulary until you run out of syllables to throw at the situation. I'm surprised that your devotion hasn't killed you. Is she even aware that you feel this intensely about her? I'm thinking not. Not at all. I would save all this energy for someone more receptive, JP.
    | Posted on 2016-11-19 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]


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