visually Impaired

You won’t see because you can t see.

stubborn yet influenceable

The storms and the burning snow

 

You won’t see, because you cant see

sensual, but insecure

Tango mixed with lullaby

 

You won t see because you can t see

Wild but defenceless

Torn paper leaking red tears

 

You won’t see because you can ‘t see

Paradoxal but wonderful

barrier firmly planted

 

you can’t see because I won t let you see

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Body and Soul

Body And Soul

You turn around me and trail your hands
Close enough to my skin, for me to feel the warmth
You turn around me and trail your lips
Close enough to my skin, for me to feel the words

And you’re trying to get closer
As I try to get farther
And you’re trying to get smarter
As I try to get dumber

You could have my body but not my soul
wonder if that lust of yours, would be satisfied with only that
you could have my soul but not my body
wonder if that care of yours would be satisfied with only that

The question lingers, trustin’ you body and soul?
Can’t dwell on that, as I keep stallin’
Evadin’ that embrace, ignorin’ the signs
You keep sendin’: please don’t do that to me

You could have my body but not my soul
You could have my soul but not my body
But if you do get all of it, body and soul
You’ll have to be careful: please don’t waste it

Little Pandora’s Box

‘Cause Dolls know…

China doll, so breakable
Not longer pretty, not longer beautiful
No one wants to shoulder the blame
If she ever breaks again

Wax doll, so fragile
Not able to hope, not able to struggle
Against the heat, meltin’ her skin
 As if in pain, her features were contorting

 

Bran doll, abandoned
Forgotten on the ground
Easy pray  for the Monsters under the bed
No one felt her dread


Rag doll, envy rollin wild
For the china one, sittin’ safely inside
She’ll never understand that her dirty outfit
Is the china doll deepest fantasy

China doll, so desperate
For someone to touch her  hair
Longin’ for the taints that would be pointin’
She knows the meaning of livin’
 
 
Little Pandora’s Box

Woman

 

There is a secret
Comfortably hidden between my hips
There is a regret
Carefully counting the drips

A sinful blessing
A gleeful punishing

There is a mystery
Trapped safely in my belly
There is a pain
Throbbing stubbornly in vain

An ephemeral damnation
An eternal salvation

There is a riddle
Carved in my pelvis
Those are merely trying to hold
Back the only real presence in there: HOPE

Little Pandora’s Box