deepundergroundpoetry.com
red light
your abstract love wear on my tenderness
in the burn yearn for something gentle
my tragedy caused you lust
there was something memorable about my masochism
Sadistic and stoic as ever you said nothing
noting my need and turning on the red light
little chaos was my sex
I revolved around my need
it catered to your ilk
your greed always caught me off guard
and I wane by the pale you shine
you always wanted more from me than I could give
my innermost secrets were confessions you didn't care for
your ears deaf to my story
it didn't matter really
it's all in appearances
honey you look good, I feel like shit
you operated on cheap thrills, momentary highs
until I had nothing left to give but a sorrowful goodbye
Published 20th Aug 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 6
reading list entries 1
comments 9
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The author encourages honest critique.
20th Aug 2023 00:24am
Sad romantic poem
A tangible reality, especially since most men do that
You meant something inside me
Thank you for sharing your writing with us
A tangible reality, especially since most men do that
You meant something inside me
Thank you for sharing your writing with us
20th Aug 2023 1:55am
20th Aug 2023 00:31am
20th Aug 2023 1:55am
20th Aug 2023 3:13am
If understanding our grief helps us transcend it, then we need to write more about it. Hopefully beautifully like you did.
20th Aug 2023 3:23am
21st Aug 2023 4:19pm
As usual your passion, and torment, shows here.
This made me think of the red light district.
More specifically the labyrinth of windows.
Each red light a new feeling, memory, or thought.
But not a real person, just a vessel to be used.
Confined in our intense lust, desire, and pain.
Made me think of "Worshiping in red lights"
and the note which I feel applies here.
To be one that stands in the red window...
'abstract love' wearing on the tenderness.
Because I think everyone needs real love.
But from very early it can become about sex.
So often we might not be selling ourselves.
yet we still find ourselves in that window.
Compartmentalizing all the things that put us there.
Being abused, taken advantage of, and exploited.
'my tragedy caused you lust'
I think that sums it so well in many cases.
On display, serving 'love' in 15 minute increments.
But desperate for a lifetime of something real...
Sometimes masochism is unavoidable.
And often it becomes such an intense need.
That little chaos... sex. A strong and constant desire.
Replaces love, becoming so intimately tied to self worth.
Such greed, when you can do anything to someone.
"I wane by the pale you shine"
To be made smaller in every other way.
Playing on insecurities and the need to please.
Total submission is never enough.
Only breaking someone down...
rebuilding you in his image.
My story does not matter. It is erased so easily.
Writing a new story, one that's never meant to be read.
And it does not matter anyway,
even if it matters so much to me.
Often it is all in appearances.
And 'looking good' leads to suffering..
Made to feel like shit... for cheap thrills.
Momentary highs...
Left forever seeking....
Those things you lost and yourself.
And the things you should have never found.
Perhaps that's the strongest need of all.
This made me think of the red light district.
More specifically the labyrinth of windows.
Each red light a new feeling, memory, or thought.
But not a real person, just a vessel to be used.
Confined in our intense lust, desire, and pain.
Made me think of "Worshiping in red lights"
and the note which I feel applies here.
To be one that stands in the red window...
'abstract love' wearing on the tenderness.
Because I think everyone needs real love.
But from very early it can become about sex.
So often we might not be selling ourselves.
yet we still find ourselves in that window.
Compartmentalizing all the things that put us there.
Being abused, taken advantage of, and exploited.
'my tragedy caused you lust'
I think that sums it so well in many cases.
On display, serving 'love' in 15 minute increments.
But desperate for a lifetime of something real...
Sometimes masochism is unavoidable.
And often it becomes such an intense need.
That little chaos... sex. A strong and constant desire.
Replaces love, becoming so intimately tied to self worth.
Such greed, when you can do anything to someone.
"I wane by the pale you shine"
To be made smaller in every other way.
Playing on insecurities and the need to please.
Total submission is never enough.
Only breaking someone down...
rebuilding you in his image.
My story does not matter. It is erased so easily.
Writing a new story, one that's never meant to be read.
And it does not matter anyway,
even if it matters so much to me.
Often it is all in appearances.
And 'looking good' leads to suffering..
Made to feel like shit... for cheap thrills.
Momentary highs...
Left forever seeking....
Those things you lost and yourself.
And the things you should have never found.
Perhaps that's the strongest need of all.
22nd Aug 2023 10:57pm
hello beautiful Kristina I love your response to this you have such deep insight into things it give me a glimpse into your wonderful mind...yes I was writing with the red light district in mind...I've been a prostitute in times past and objectified for sex sake and that alone it can be a powerful drug knowing you have control over the moment...being masochistic though can have its own complications in these situations...I have a very difficult time in regards to relationships I don't trust myself to be wise in any given situation...so I hold back the best parts of me...I guess I fear what I may attract...I deeply appreciate your thoughts here you see so much about what makes a person tick... thank you
8th Sep 2023 2:34pm
Stoicism always struck me as a show of power and control, yet it can also be cruel. The dom to a sub, lingering on silence conveying those feelings wants and needs.
Nice spill
Nice spill
