In the Mirror

This is an adult write, so if you are under 18 please leave. Also it might be a little intense so read with caution it might trigger emotions

Looking at the glass what will I see, what is looking back at me?

Lines creeping as time marches on, silver showing for all to see


Looking deeper what will I see there, eyes dark and hollow

The pitch and roll of life make a challenge for the horizon to follow

The sparkle and luster faded over time but not yet gone away

The thirst for adventure never quenched, the fiery need to play

Dreams danced and twisted, some lay gnarled and withered now

Time the friend and thief makes all things change somehow

The fog has crept over, steam had clouded the sight, yet here I am

Standing in the room seeing the suddenly exposed hand

Only in the mist can it be seen, a treasure to be revealed

Like a desire that only the right circumstance can be revealed

Fuck I can smell it, that sweet scent of fear excreted from every pore

Pushing till there is only the crumbling edge and nothing more

Yes, the sweet taste as I run my tongue along the spine savoring

The flesh rising in bumps as the heat of my breath become intoxicating

Pressing on as the growing need overrides the fear, a whimper

Lust has a way of making the raw desire become something simpler

Close you eyes and just feel, shiver from the chill of the steel

The rush of sliding the blade over flesh, the gasps and shudders

Blindfolded so sound and smell become heightened, even touch

A scrape, a ping, what is he doing? It is a mind fuck to do such

That primal growl in the ear, a nail sliding along the face slowly

Beg me my little fucking whore, my words drip with lusty honey

The world gone, just your body locked here with my attentions

Scream in need, yell in hunger, cry out in lust, be alive with intention

Scream foul if you dare, this is the edge of madness and desire

Letting it all go, there is only this moment to feel everything inspired

Ask for it, say what you need as helplessly the ropes hold you fast

Taste it on your tongue my fingers on your lip now pressed

Lashing the needing flesh with my tongue, cry in pleasure now

Release any pent-up reservations and let the feeling rush and flow

Real it back in, come back to earth and remember to breathe

Aching as the crash comes, falling like a comet into the reeds

Sweat flowing like a river off bodies, gasps for air slowing

The body relaxing as the world flows back, routine showing

The eyes looking back, the feeling it is all off track but still here

The fog lifting as the fan runs everything slowly becomes clear


The face looking back showing a few years but still the same I knew

A deep breath today is another day starting fresh and new

Will it be a wild adventure, or will it be my version of normal?

Will I spend the day in my head or will it become something formal?

Wicked Wednesday


In The Fog

The snap of a twig, dark sunken eyes now in view
A tip of the hat, the predator comes into view

The grey of the fog turning on the water like a sprite dancing

Stretching out its tendrils like a beast reaching

In the whirl a form slowly comes and goes

Mushrooms? Maybe a stick, oh wait are thoseā€¦. Toes?

A foot bare except for the caked on mud that clings

The fog thins and slowly reveals more of the scene

Calf so pale in the dim light, or maybe not

The litter of leaves cover the insidious spot

Pushing the litter back a form starts to appear

Eyes hollow, glazed, filled with a final fear

Tattered dress offers no cover in this final place

Bruises and blood cover the once angelic face

Marks of a struggle mar the ashen flesh all over

Was it a villain, a predator, or a jilted lover?

Truth is that this was no accident that happened

Her body the object of something partially planned

A locket still attached around the bruised throat

Only the faint smell of death, the body yet to bloat

The snap of a twig, dark sunken eyes now in view

A tip of the hat, the predator comes into view

The cloak pulled tight to not reveal the true form

Still in all it was old tattered and well worn

Looking on as if gazing at a lover sleeping in bed

So many questions fill my spinning head

A large sack he now takes out of his black bag

Leaning down he caresses the ever still head

Hands push away the debris laying all about

Tenderly picking up the form and kissing its mouth

With care he puts the prize in the bag and lifts

Turning again towards me and with another hat tip

The fog rolls in and swallows the scene

Was it real or was it just a dark dream?