fucking poetry is a passionate and erotic showcase of words that drip from your lips

Release Day


There’s an ease

in release

And I don’t mean fucking…

Or perhaps I do - in part

at least.

It’s the beast we freed,

That choking complex need


Our quiet selves that never


to cover up our

cocks and scars,

cunts and bruises,

all we want is freedom,


to remember how to be,

But we’re wound so fucking tight

To break free won’t take one night

You’ll have to tie me roughly;

don’t be gentle,

I’m too practiced -

I’ll dissemble

- in fact I’ll outright lie.

“I’m fine”

You’ll need to disassemble me,

so I remember how to cry.

Release me from being,


It’s why I’m on my knees.

Five Senses