#aged 19

[clarabowlover]

Lily Elsie (Aged 19)

By Rita Martin (1905)

[aiiaiiiyo]

[frompriorsmarston-blog]

His Vacant Nights

I'd pay for him, he'd sap off me,

like a child,

he'd cry for me.

When I wasn't there,

I'd long for him,

but where was he and who was he? - didn't care.

Pictures of his mother and her many lives,

Henry VIII with his 6 cats,

with their 9 lives.

The one constant thing in his mother's life,

he'd sit watching her,

house after car after man after strife. 

He learnt to love so many,

just not himself,

there were no pictures of him,

on that pristine white shelf.

Too much love he'd been made to give,

not enough no way,

nothing for him to receive. 

So when I came open,

my picture on that shelf,

he said 'can you love me whole heatedly,

so I can love myself?' 

We shared a fanatic, enigmatic love,

dripping dreams and splashing white,

him underneath, me above.

I taught him to love,

so he adored me back,

until he learnt he could love others,

that crept into his sack.

On April 11th 2011- yep that date,

we stopped talking, you started, 

working out of our mess,

and I just put on weight. 

I longed to see his hands tug at my waist,

I didn't want to want, 

I wanted to be chased. 

Nothing more unsightly to meet one's eye,

than a puffy, slippy face,

as a girl pants after a guy.

I wanted his face,

any opportunity that stood,

Late nights with him- a drunken disgrace.

I live to regret those nights,

that would empty the days,

loneliness bites.

Not of the casual sex, nor the spew of alcohol,

or the clothes- wrecked, black and wet, 

not holding on tight enough, so in the morning, 

he'd gone- was my only regret. 

[frompriorsmarston-blog]

Dignity?

A dark, dank tunnel and,

At the end we put a light.

It’s making sure that tunnel disappears

So everything’s gleaming bright.

  It’s acting and treating others,

Properly and respectfully.

Towards our fathers and our mothers,

We are loving and act tactfully.

  How you act and where you are,

Dignity is personal and different for everybody.

Your personality and how you want to be perceived,

How you dress and rest your body.

  When someone is too tired, too infirm,

Incapable and lost in their ability,

Care is working hard to fulfil,

And preserve ones dignity.

[frompriorsmarston-blog]

Society and I

'I like to dance, I like to party, I like to read, I like to smoke and I love to get pissed, but most of all I love to be shocking, to be loud and I adore arguing (thank you mum). And that is exactly what I am, an argument with society, a two fingers up to the patriarch and a penis and two bollocks to Ten Downing Street.' 

[frompriorsmarston-blog]

There is love in a lap dance

Whisky and fairy lights

Bathing in drunken phosphorescence,

Losing our sights

I could smell you, a tangible presence.

  And as I lay there

Giggling, enjoying my hell,

Bitten neck, tangled hair

Blood and cum, panting, your smell.

  Hectic, chaotic, a fucking mess

Sickly smiles, a weekend in bed,

This isn’t love, it’s much less

It’s only fucking; emotions aren’t good for my head.

  You kiss me, you lick me

You are always inside me,

I am a shell and you are the sea

Prostitution without a fee.

  We both know what this means,

Don’t talk,

I watch him in the mirror as he preens

I walk.

  The next night, you call

I’m strong, well stronger than you,

But of course I fall

I want to fuck you too.

  It’s only sex boy

You know I don’t care,

You are my toy

A beautiful nightmare.

  There is always love

In a lap dance,

I am your pure dove

You in a testosterone filled trance.

  I skip, you following, into my hell,

My merry way into this cold fire,

And I can fucking tell,

We’ll get married boy, something is born out of this desire.