Marked

As I touch my bruises,
See my marks,
It reignites like
Lightning sparks,

The memory of each pleasure-pain,
How passion flowed,
It's ebb and wane.

Where you stood,
Where I'd lain,
How each touch, each strike
Drove me insane.

Every bite,
Every kiss,
Every caress and thrust
Pure bliss.

You make me scream,
You make me weak,
My complete surrender
Is all you seek.

You spank and pinch
And taunt and tease,
Your voice in my ear
Demanding release.

You push my limits,
Erase my lines,
You tighten your grip,
Weave our bond like vines.

Then passion erupts,
Lust flows like the tides,
We ride out the storm
Till the wave subsides.

And so with each flashback and memory
Etched on my skin,
My heart and body lay open until
I can see you again.

I will see you again.

Melancholy...

Sounds Like Pictures

Scritch, scratch, of pencil on pages.
The wages of sin hold no power here.
Nothing but lead on paper and words flowing free,
With glee, drunk upon imagination.
Meaning ever changing, pictures painted colorfully in gray and white.
The Might of the Pen is nothing compared to the mercurial nature of pencil, where a single line, word, letter can be erased and the picture forever changed..or until erased again.
When you hear that scrape of coal-like tip upon bleached wood pulp, lined perfectly as though trying to impose order on the literary chaos being spilled upon its surface carelessly,
You see the futility of borders when the scritch, scratch sound is shushing in your ears,
Like a whispered ocean in a seashell.
Thoughts gel, ideas glisten, as neurons, like fireworks, spark across the mind.
I find this many splendoured thing known as writing to be relaxing and exciting at the same time,
Like making love; that slow build that tenses then releases, exhilaration and boneless bliss.
This is what my muse sounds like...
Scritch Scratch...

By ~ Níca

Old Inspiration

MUSE
A random thought,
a passing dream,
a field of ideas from which to glean,
An odd inspiration,
a moment in time,
one's various muse' may strike at any time.

Letting go...

It's hard...

Whether it's you letting go or someone letting go of you, it's never easy, not if real emotion is involved. Sometimes turning points in your life aren't clear 90° turns and are more like shifting steps over or around obstacles or anything that can trip us up. Some moves are automatic, almost unconscious but, more often than not, they stop us in our tracks, give us pause...maybe even cause us to step back. Life is navigating a path thru wilderness. We can only see so far ahead of us and things can pop up without warning. And other times we see but think we can just push thru it. Sometimes we can and sometimes we can't. Some we can avoid and some we need to remove before we can progress forward.

Life is like Time...it just keeps going on, with or without us. It's a river with calm spots and rocky parts and occasional whirlpools that try to keep us in place to drown us. We can die or continue moving, struggling, fighting. And if something is weighing us down, we need to let it go or live with the consequences of holding on to things that aren't good for us.

Love is a two edged sword than can cut other or ourselves equally as deeply. There's Love that builds and Love that tears down. When Love cuts in such a way as to bleed you slowly to death, it's time to pull out that knife to staunch the negative flow. It may hurt like hell but now you can heal and give yourself the opportunity receive positive flow.

Pain isn't bad. It tells us when something is wrong and it can be cathartic...cleansing. So it all comes down to what you can and are willing to bear. If it's going to hurt either way, choose the pain that heals. Sometimes... it's time to let go.

Once again, I'm letting go.

Gotta admit, I'm really tired of this shit. I always let the sword cut too deep.

Remix

I started this blog awhile back, thinking it would be like an online diary with stuff people may appreciate but I just don't have that kind of dedication or consistency. So I'm going to pull that perfectionist stick out of my ass and just go with the flow. Write when moved, share my poetry, thoughts, etc, without having to have it all be so structured or themed. That's the plan anyways. Let's see how it goes...lol Hasta la pasta, baby!