Unsent Words

Fire between my legs,

Itch I can’t scratch,

Cat in heat howling at the moon,

Stirs when I think of you,

Thought only girls caught butterflies,

I will never let you know:

How much my body craves you,

How my heart yearns to know you,

How my soul swears that it already does,

Longing to fade into you,

Letting go takes all of me,

So unsent words you will not see.

Advertisements

Aphrodite Wounded

man speaks of her beauty defined,

she is a goddess incarnate,

when joined to you,

in passion’s throes.

~

give back what you stole!

you didn’t deserve her body’s temple.

love’s rain quenches her wrath:

manifested as churning stomach’s pit.

~

as divinity resides within her,

you will never see her tears,

she will hold her head high; with eternal grace

you will not witness Aphrodite wounded.

Interlaced

You are answer to my question,

A heart has only one question,

Lifetimes spent seeking answers in wrong places,

Your touch sends sensations surging through me,

Allow your mouth to meet mine,

Nuzzle my soft hair with you nose inhaling its scent,

Vanilla and flowers you say,

Damn the consequences or our fears!

Our love and our passion defies the rules of time and space,

Interlaced we both are together,

You and I.

Sharing a heart, mind and soul…

Physical merge so we are interlaced together.

Notches

Notches

thinking on heart breaking wisdom gained

youth’s passionate embraces

whether car’s backseat or his bed

am I one of many notches?

~~~~

for some just a footnote

in the revolving door between their thighs

vague memory of stolen bliss

borrowed for just one night

~~~~

you claim an insatiable hunger

one that can’t or won’t die

you’re a tom seeking me in heat

different from a sweet talking Casanova

~~~~

how many women fell under your spell?

how many hearts did you break?

did one of them break yours?

by you being just a notch on her bedpost

~~~~

now jaded by Don Juan’s games

yet seeing your pure heart

wishing to understand what is it

you seek by making notches on your bedpost

(c) Amanda Wilson 2013

My Sweetest Sin

My Sweetest Sin

Given the soul

With one look

You are

My sweetest sin

 

One million thoughts

How to begin

Meeting flesh and bone

My sweetest sin

 

For only my love

I dare atone

Bathed in ecstacy’s fire

My sweetest sin

 

Heavens may conspire

Desire swelling within

Thigh to thigh-you are

My sweetest sin

 

Burn me, pure love’s fire

Two souls as one.

Too right to be wrong

My sweetest sin

 

My sweetest sin

I  feel you

Within

Breathing under my skin

 

(c) Amanda Wilson 2013

Bitter and Sweet

The past couple of days I was occupied with working on writing my life experiences down. The biographical story is the first stage to doing training to assist in a workshop presented to healthcare professionals on how to combat stigma against the mentally ill in emergency rooms and other healthcare services.

Writing memoirs brings up emotions that I thought I had dealt with, or forgotten about. One of these memories was the first relationship that I had after the sexual assault. It started off as passionate and enjoyable then eventually rotted to abusive behaviours. An abuser can seem sensitive, charming and passionate at first.

Each relationship since was a mixture of sweet and bitter. Some left a really bad taste in my mouth. My early experiences have made me wary of any partner who displays strong passion towards me. Over time I am hoping to trust my intuition more when my partner displays strong feelings for me. One thing I learned over the years was how you have to sometimes love yourself enough to walk away from destructive situations.

Amanda