Archive for February, 2011


Posted in Uncategorized on February 9, 2011 by 4 Ur Viewing Pleasure


Reverberant pounding in my head,

Echoes of who I am.

The Liar, the Vixen, the Whore,

The Lamb for the slaughter crucified.
The Temptress, the Bitch, the Unwell,

Angelic Sinner brings her offering.

Like a drum roll marching in my veins,
The silence rips through my flesh.
Empty, fucking emptiness that stalks my heart,
Choking me violently till I succumb.
Sucking the beauty from my veins,
Leaving me heaving, breathless and starving.
Like gunshots, the pounding commences,
Threatening to devour all that is left of me.
Take the willing, leave the corpse,
Quietly slinking back to the shadows.
Throbbing cadence through my body,
The Harlot, the Harem, banished purity.
Pulsating agony that shreds my soul,
Divine divinity for the sake of vanity.
I crumble, blood soaked and wounded,
Shards of my heart pricking my fingertips.
Taste the sweetness as it spills past my lips,
Lust, Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Pride, Anger and Sloth.
Reality, a slap in the face, a broken heart,
Reaping penance for my sins.
The demons scream for blood, my blood,
For mercy to feast on until I’m weak.
Tortured little doll, frail and wilting,
A flower trapped amongst the thorns.
Running till my lungs burn raw,
Waiting for the collapse of my world.
The Fallen Angel screams for serenity,
I commit myself to the fiery burning in hell.

Doll Parts

Posted in Uncategorized on February 9, 2011 by 4 Ur Viewing Pleasure

She stares at me with wide eyes,
searching for a reason.
Searching for the meaning behind the lines,
her soul is empty, a tortured memory.
A life she has not yet lived,
She takes a deep breath.
Her smile is fading fast,
Her eyes no longer sparkle.
Age is setting into the creases of her mouth,
too young to call it quits.
Too old to try again,
Her skin is translucent.
tears stain her blushed cheeks,
The mascara cant hide the sleepless nights.
deep shadows engulf her eyes,
She knows she can’t keep up the act.

At what cost? she asks herself,
Her hands can’t hide her aging.
She knows she has let herself go,
Happiness is a memory.
The pills keep her sane from day to day,
She wants to cry herself to sleep.
maybe for a just a little while,
Is there a way to go back, once you have gone too far?

Truth is beauty and beauty is truth,
Untold, unloved, unabashed and growing weary.
She would do anything to breath the breathe of life again.
Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?

What was the point in trying?
Wasted days, squandered nights.

Is there a moment when you wake up and realize,
the girl starring back at you is your reflection?

My Wonderland

Posted in Uncategorized on February 9, 2011 by 4 Ur Viewing Pleasure


Lying here, listening to your heartbeat,
the silence filled with neverending tenderness.
I melt against your soft skin,
the warmth of your lips on my neck.
Safetly tucked away in your arms,
the world just disappears.


Your boyish smile breathes life into my soul,
Feeling your pulse through your gentles kisses.
One soul, one breath, one being,
entertwined, lovers twisted and engulfed.
Whispering affections into loves sweet abyss,
as I watch your chest rise and fall.


I love to watch you sleep so peacefully,
memorizing every freckle, every beautiful inch.
Just be here with me, in this moment,
the precious morning light on our skin.
the way your hair falls across your forehead,
losing myself in those mossy green eyes.


The smell of your skin dizzying my senses,
inhaling every inch of your naked flesh.
I’ll be your Alice, if you’ll be my wonderland,
love me for now and keep me safe in your embrace.
Be my happy, be the song in my head,
I give you all that I am, if you will just be.



Posted in Uncategorized on February 9, 2011 by 4 Ur Viewing Pleasure

Dark shadows beyond the lens,
casting demure spells on my mind.
His eyes sparkle like elusive emeralds,
tandem verses spelled out in frames.
Soft ripples of flesh evade my thoughts,
waning images captured like fireflies.
Flashes of beauty captured in his sights,
what lies beyond those still images.

Listening to the clicking of his camera,
His hands gentle yet soft yet strong,
he blushes crimson at my songs of praise,
a shy glance over his slender shoulder.
He whispers, but my focus is obscured,
tracing the outline of his heart shaped lips.
Pristine images, brilliant black and white,
humble his nature, vibrant his mind.

The arch of his neck as he strains,
contours of flesh captured in my memory.
moments in time, forever at his fingertips,
His truth seeps down into my heart.
His art, beautifully crafted creations,
vanity plays no role, only stoic grace.
the more I gaze beyond his scope,
I find myself engulfed in all that he is.

Lost within himself, his life, his work,
I watch from the shadows in awe.
Waiting to inhale his poetic essence,
photogenic anomalies within the frame.
Fragments of him, shards of his love,
like puzzle pieces waiting to be placed.
His truth, reality in contrasting hues,
enigmatic monochrome schemes indeed.

Moments, he says, slices of life and love,
Fingers gliding over the smooth black edges.
Peering in concentration, frozen forever,
art in life and life in art.
He plays his whimsical devotion,
Stepping back to view his canvas.
Pieces of him, pieces of me, pieces of you,
Lustful images, realistic visions in fragments.

Beyond the lens, his words press upon me,
Moments, sweet moments, so dear.