Mystery
I wish you could know how it feels to be me,
Why I appear so intoxicated,
When I let you inside to seek,
Looking for what you seem to need.
Some nights you enter me, ever so tenderly,
Others you ravage and plunder,
Pervading primed lips, as I silently wonder,
As host, which pair you like most.
Occasionally you command my head,
Forcefully pushing down,
Saturating my mouth with your entirety,
And I succumb to the rhythm that you need.
Intensity enflames me,
As you speak my name in ecstasy,
Igniting a craving, insistent that I mount,
And fuse us with its heat.
At times you're a hungry lion,
Stalking, as soon as I step through your door,
And I fear being torn apart, resisting,
As savagely you thrust, the moment tasting.
Desperately searching,
Exploring for something I hide,
You tunnel further, with every stride,
Into the cave that houses my soul,
Digging for a treasure to make you whole,
One you think is buried within,
Beneath my skin.
Although, I know not what you're mining for,
And so you are,
And forever will remain, a Mystery,
For I can never know what you discover,
Deep inside of me.
By Shelley Cates Martin
Tormented
This is what I meant,
When I said you were killing me,
I'm tormented by my own insanity,
Over you.
I am so tired
Of hurting,
Of crying,
Of longing,
Of this trying that insists,
Of waiting,
Of aching,
Of wanting,
Of this need that persists,
To have you deep inside,
To be at your mercy,
To plead with you to ride,
As I'm whimpering out your name,
Forgetting to breathe,
Hoping you won't leave,
Of feeling like I have no other choice,
Except to be scorched by your fire,
Like a moth to a flame,
Not being able to resist
The beauty hidden in death.
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