Crying Wolf

He forced into me
My mind, my thoughts, my heart

my legs

Felt around every inch inside
Memorizing each thrust of selfish joy
Dry
and depleted of happiness
With nothing left to give

He scavenged, ripping down my walls
Discovering and destroying my center
Drawn blood a bonus, showed signs of rough play
“She can handle rough play”
He whispered, escaping deeper within me
My own voice weakened from unfortunate circles

Pumping

Slamming

Faster until his pleasure succumbed
Crashing on top of me
I can’t breathe
Him gasping in orgasmic glory

“Help”

Beneath his weight, crushing
My breath, slowing
emptied out, a complete void left of me
And he walked away and never returned

neither did I

Catcaller

Have mercy on me for I have sinned
and fallen for that tight skirt girl,
High heels an inch away from reaching the heavens,
breast molded in pure perfection,
And I won’t lie,
it was pure lust that drew me in so heavily,
And I did stare,  boy did I stare
at how her hips swayed with the breeze,
A whistle slipped from out my mouth into the air and she did hear,
Her lip frowned up and eyes grew wide,
Disdain showed with a hint of fear,
But my, oh my, was she a fox,
Walking sex,
Her body like sugar; sweeter than honey,
And though I know not of her mind,
I’m sure it’s there,
But please have mercy,
for all I saw
were the voluptuous curves of that tight skirt girl.