#lesbianpoets

[justanapparatus]

Warren Peace was soooooooo gender

he really is he's kinda nonbinary lesbian coded

[souldeepmarrowdeep]

Request

I didn’t ask for your forever,

not at first. You offered it,

Eve’s very own apple, and by God

I was starving.

You painted me as a portrait,

your words and your touch brush

strokes on a canvas barren with need.

You see, I believed you.  All of you.

Trust was easy for a broken shell;

there was nowhere left to crack.

You gilded my scars with gold

and made them beautiful. My body

a trembling leaf on the wind, plucked

from the air was caressed in your hands.

You taught me how to scream

your name while fire danced behind my eyes.

I surrendered to it, to all you are,

to all we wanted.

The teethmarks you left, this time,

don’t bruise. The blood left in me 

is sicker than yours.

Anything you asked, granted. I asked

for your forever.

- Samantha Sastre

[inkbyday]

--day, 2.20.2021

[handwrittenforher]

She is not afraid. Though her heart is taken advantage of, continually passed on, tossed in the air, played with; She is not afraid to love anyway. She takes chances on love  because she knows, one day, being fearless will bring her  a fearless love.

Handwritten for Her

[kitchentablelit]

8/30 Exploitation

How much you wanna bet I can make you want me?

If only for one night.

I can read your mind and become that instantly.

It is a blessing and curse.

It’s my failing heart,

rotting inside of me,

but not being able to remove it

because being barely alive is

better than being dead; and

being broke is better than being poor

because broke is temporary,

but poor is a permanent class that labels you disadvantage.

Inferior.

Lacking.

Unable.

See, I am poor so they expect me to fail them.

They love the roughness of my neck,

how it scrapes the palms of their hands when they rub it.

They love the length of my dreads.

My past intertwined with my present, and

they hope to be re-twisted into my future.

They love the idea of me.

They love how I can be who they need instead of who I am and still function properly.

They love the never-ending sparks,

screams and arguments

because drama is the key to a successful relationship.

There are no conditions to my love.

I sale it inexpensively and them girls love that shit.

I make them weak.

Give them hero during the day and turn villain at night.

Suck the blood from their veins and drain them until they are just flesh; and

flesh doesn’t scare me.

I eat flesh for breakfast.

But these females strutting around with beating hearts give me anxiety.

They are living and I am looking for a corpse to bury 6 ft. deep with me.

Watching the living slowly suffocate is becoming unbearable.

I told them not to come down here.

I told them not to love me because loving me is a death sentence.

Save yourself.

Strap on a bulletproof vest and stay clear of my gun

because I always hit my target and

I shoot to kill.

Every bullet in this chamber has a purpose even if that purpose is destruction, and I reload fast.

No silver-gold cuff can hold me, no white fence can cage me.

I am not your domestic wife.

I am the woman who opened doors when I opened her legs.

I am legendary in the pits of hell.

They scream my name as fire starts up in their loins, burning them from the inside out, hips lifting, reaching for the clouds attempting to feel some of the coolness of heaven.

Fire makes the body act in uncontrollable ways.

Just ask these sinners.

Ask the adulteress.

My love is only for the heavy hearted.

The red-puffy eyed women who have been crying rivers for years.

The ones with the strong overloaded shoulders carrying bags and dragging ex-lovers.

I am not your red wine and bubble bath to help you relax.

I am not your masseuse.

I am the muse meant to get your heart rate up.

I am the greener grass you thought you saw on the other side of the hill.

The sign you passed said no trespassers but you vowed to be the one to warm the beast’s heart.

You thought too much of your beauty.

Beauty conquers beast only in fairy tales.

Here-

Beast turns beauty out,

And she becomes the most beautiful Beast you ever seen.  

I am a creator of monsters.

Dark Mona Lisa.

I am an artist and these words are my paint brush.

I am the snake who charmed her own snake charmer,

and then I charmed Eve.

I don’t whisper lines,

I recite full poems in these women ears and it brings their lips to mine every time.

I don’t do this on purpose.

I am addicted to their aroma.

I have a sickness.

I need something else to fed on beside beautiful women,

Innocent beings.

I should have never tempted you to bite the apple from that tree;

I am sorry.

But your lips, your teeth, biting that apple;

I bet that apple never tasted anything so sweet.

But I have had the pleasure to feast at many tables and everyone was a delight.

How can I say no to dessert every day?

My mother told me I picking up weight,

I told her I am carrying pieces of hearts and I don’t know where to start to put them back together.

You are my demise and I am yours.

Duality sometimes turn into love.

I want to treat you better.

I want the words I tell you to be true,

I want the promises I make to be meaningful,

But every time I try to follow through

another you walk pass me.

You wearing a skirt this time,

Your hair is natural this time,

It’s you in another life, and

Remember what I told you, if we ever lose each other during reincarnation I will find you.

So, I went to you,

Made love to you the way we always do with passion.

With the intentions to stay,

We can make a life out of this.

This time I won’t let you down,

I won’t get bored with your love.

I am bored with your love.

Your hugs no longer ease me,

Your lips are tasting bitter,

Your tongue is tasting sour,

I can’t be in this unchanging love; Who did you think I was?

They love what they see and hear in these words.

They love the feeling I provoke,

The pulsing between their legs get hard the longer I talk,

The more metaphors I use the more intelligent I sound, and she loves the intellectual type.

I knew just the poem to do when I walked into the room and saw her face.

I observed my prey just long enough to analyze how thick her skin,

I signed my name on the list.

Occasionally stare at her as I recited,

I am lover. I am a holder. I am maker of dreams. I will sweep you off your feet and whisk you away to forgotten places. You will be enough for me.

Dem girls love that shit.

Aim.

Fire.

She said, how much I owe you.

 -Slam Anderson

[kitchentablelit]

7/30 “Armed”

Sometimes a nightmare can lead to a dream.So, face night demons with faith.

[mxsunshineblossoms]

Todays nsfw mood: fuck me or fuck off.

[ehooverink]

"There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors." Adrienne Rich. #sources #feministtext #feministpoetics #betweenwomen #lesbianpoets #sourcetext