Sexual Poems - Poems about Sexual

You use sex to live as a means to pay Attention not to mention evade escape Any responsibility in bills mortgage or rent Pretending to love like you are heaven sent You’re good at what you do making lovers a fool Only thing you own between your legs a tool Like butter your words melt like moth to flame You...

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[An anti -victim blaming project] [“He was asking for it with those clothes,” the officer said, pointing at the black shorts he wore. It was torn at the bottom, with knotted hems and hanging strings from his shaking silhouette. A spectating officer nodded, turning to him and grunting, “Make sure to cover up— maybe then, this...

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Count the men; like the stars All in red, A penetrated holes art I shouldn't be walking; into the night Alas! Walk 365 steps, back from his right He can hear me, All can smell me Even when I am a ghost to me. They tie my legs, shouting for devi Only ending up rupturing me without any tyranny Who will...

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I still remember the day you stole my innocence away. The world shifted— colors drained from golden light to endless shadow. It started as a simple conversation, slowly pulling me down to your basement. I was only 13 years old when you left me to walk home on shaking legs. At first, I thought I deserved it— because fear stole my words before...

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Romantic or Sexual Love Romantic or sexual love produces yellow clear fossilised resin utilised in jewellery. ...

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It’s been 10 years since you last saw me. I’m softer. Matured. Unrecognizable. And yet the feeling of your roaming eyes still darkens my skin, the phantom sensations making me retch. Your vile intentions occupy a corner of my brain with no sign of conceding territory. I can’t go to the doctor lest that hotel room comes rushing back and renders me...

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what should we do with sexual predators, trauma, victims, pain and suffering, what should we do with sexual predators they creep in like rats under a leaking ceiling, all teeth and shadow. you can't kill every rat. but you can stop feeding them. trauma sits in the corner, cross-legged, smoking, she never asks for much, but she stays. victims keep walking, along the yellow brick road clutching their pain like...

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… Throughout my life, the same phrase has been repeated to me- “no means no.” The concept of refusing an action you’re uncomfortable abetted me towards hope; growing up, distraught was brought upon me due to my safety. When I felt as if I was in danger, that phrase comforted me; it acted as a reminder that...

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Joy in mourning opens this new eye day. Am I OK? Healthy? Compromised yet survive able air inhaling "Death, tonight, or some tomorrow, my life's inevitable closed, no longer curious, final answer." Warm, wet exhaling, "My moisture, too, dying to reopen yet another deep breath resurrecting dawn." Is my heart still beating safe soul-full rhythmed wealth? Will I know no tomorrow ever spaciously becomes sufficiently efficient, endless love proficient? Do We breathe in borrowed time together better than sad Earth-matricide mad pathology mourning...

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What can I do? To fight these urges In my adult life, I have no luck No luck with love But my body needs to But I can't disappoint God Nor give Satan the power So what can I do To fullfill my Sexual desire The beating in my chest the urge to rub a womans breast and rubbing her feet would also be best I...

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Somewhere in the deep dark night A child suppresses tears of shame and guilt Her spirit crushed, her innocence torn An Uncle, a family friend Drank greedily from her well of youth His thirst, a vile sickness in the dark. Beneath palms and ancient baobabs A homeless owl’s cry echoes in the wind Lonely, like the hearts of men who...

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She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline, Her crown, heavy with my wasted want. Never knows best, a fault of design. Her tensions a dagger, a cunning divine, A soul-bleeder, god as a vaunt. She'll be the queen of my decrepit ridgeline. The arson of anger will never confine, For the plaid that’s been woven, I a gaunt Never knows best, a...

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When you placed your hands on the littles ones thigh, When they saw your shadow in stead of theirs, When they glanced up at you, adoration and want radiating from their eyes, There goes your rotten mind misinterpreting that, Oh how could the little one know that your heart rested a lewd demon, When you offered them a place to...

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I had a great time. I thought as I tiptoed across the floor, afraid to crack the eggshells. Feeling the warmth of the morning sun hitting my face through the curtain. Hearing the soft sighs of sleep coming from our marital bed. I had a great time. Denial comforts me. I had a great time I smiled. As I wash the blood...

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Singing is an art So hard to understand But let me sing you a song Of a girl who was greeted by adulthood Far too soon. Her young hands tremble Under the weight of what they carry A burden she longs to unload Yet dizziness pulls her back To the very place where innocence was lost. On that bed, a faceless man ...

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