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Array ( [sid] => 159492 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => hedonist. [time] => 2010-05-03 16:38:16 [hometext] => If hurting you is wrong, then I never want to be right. ( For those who love darkly, and those who enjoy being loved by them. ) [bodytext] =>

Love's an excuse to get hurt
And to hurt.
Do you like to hurt?
I do, I do

Then hurt me...

"Lover I don't have to love"
By: Bright Eyes

__________________________________________________________________________

Dare I release you?

/ / Suspended breath / /

search with eyeless despair,
inhaling the ghost of a scent,
aching for the hand that
has yet to strike,

or caress.

your shame bleeds its musk
between
tremulous thighs.

You are delicate.

Lost in the darkness I’ve given you,
the veil I wrapped tightly
over your worldly eyes,

you do not whimper,
dare not scream,

newborn of the powerless;

of the willing.

fingers whisper Swinburne across
soft shoulders,
the fragile crevices of sternum - -

and might they waltz along the
small atlas of your breasts,
love them and the creature
that wheezes
quietly below?

Might they tear screams or sighs from
your silent mouth;

brush the dust from your tear-stained voice,
and stroke life into veins that have
otherwise been
still?

Dare I ruin you?

I can love no other way

but with chain and leather,
with merciless teeth,

and darling, I would devour your worship
like god,
forgiving your
frailty,

loving your pain,

as I take you beyond agony,

and into rebirth.

[comments] => 2 [counter] => 279 [topic] => 13 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )

hedonist.

Contributed by FleurdeSang on Monday, 3rd May 2010 @ 04:38:16 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

Love's an excuse to get hurt
And to hurt.
Do you like to hurt?
I do, I do

Then hurt me...

"Lover I don't have to love"
By: Bright Eyes

__________________________________________________________________________

Dare I release you?

/ / Suspended breath / /

search with eyeless despair,
inhaling the ghost of a scent,
aching for the hand that
has yet to strike,

or caress.

your shame bleeds its musk
between
tremulous thighs.

You are delicate.

Lost in the darkness I’ve given you,
the veil I wrapped tightly
over your worldly eyes,

you do not whimper,
dare not scream,

newborn of the powerless;

of the willing.

fingers whisper Swinburne across
soft shoulders,
the fragile crevices of sternum - -

and might they waltz along the
small atlas of your breasts,
love them and the creature
that wheezes
quietly below?

Might they tear screams or sighs from
your silent mouth;

brush the dust from your tear-stained voice,
and stroke life into veins that have
otherwise been
still?

Dare I ruin you?

I can love no other way

but with chain and leather,
with merciless teeth,

and darling, I would devour your worship
like god,
forgiving your
frailty,

loving your pain,

as I take you beyond agony,

and into rebirth.

Copyright Â© FleurdeSang ... [ 2010-05-03 16:38:16]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: hedonist. (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Wednesday, 5th May 2010 @ 11:42:31 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

You freaking take the reader through a series of emotions and feelings. Pain, sensuality, fear, desire. There is so...so much imagery and emotive power. Not sure if I want to love it or cower in fear....okay, dag nab it. I love it!!!!

On a side note, I cannot believe there aren't more comments and reads on this.

*bites tongue severely for the remainder of my thoughts*

Re: hedonist. (User Rating: 1 )
by elle on Friday, 21st May 2010 @ 06:05:28 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Dear S~

Early morning & I find myself lost in awe, waking here, to become tangled in the poetic beauty of this raw emotion & the unabashed servitude to pain & our ability to dwell there in. I must always be sincere to brave your poetry. . . revere & approach with all manner of opaque considerations lost to the threshing floor. . . become one with awareness & yet neglect the stifling embrace of the nuerons that this supposes. . . & while my wary senses tingle with the very nuance of ruin & ache, that you've proposed, my minds eye conjures an ever growing relatedness, as if all who are but human must. . . I submit to the warning chills that sever any hope of coming out the other side unchanged. . . unscathed. . . undone. . . Only to dwell in the undoing & spend thought & ply, breath & contemplation. . . a touch of my fragile self lost within the worship you proscribe. Your words are powerful! Throaty, pale, discerning, with a clarity, that I fear your true age warrants not & yet here they are. . . an ancient fold of testament to the beguiling throes of love. . . that deep, still center. . .
Poetess. . .

L~

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