Whispered insomnia

A write of yearning for an old physical love.

Yes. Muscle memory is a cunt.

Thank you SS

Sounds like a mutual pin-up photo session is in order.

Something to accentuate those absentee midnight whispers:)

A mutual pin-up session is indeed in order... oh, right a PHOTO session. DOH!

Fuck accentuating, I just finger myself until it all goes away.

Thanks for the read/review :)

I can’t comment.
I’ll get yelled at …

Like

Dude, you can talk about watching someone jack off all you want.

:)

Heartbreakingly good!  
That physical lust is fucked, lingers forever

AARRRRGGG! No shit. The physical aspect is so fucked.

And it appears to linger forever.

Sometimes an old lover's pheromones just keep wafting under your nose... Very beautiful write. I love how you nail how it's torturous, but also not.

Right? Like, no matter how many times I wash the mental sheets, there's always a little hint of him.

Thank you.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with knowing what you like, regardless of the reason. Tight work Lady

I absolutely know what I want.

At all times.

And it's generally more than folks want to give after a few good fucks.

GD Betty, lovely lusty piece of expression.

LJ

Thank you darling, I appreciate it.

Lust... it such an asshole.

Spent flower lust....

Candygram.

And you get it. As always.

Thank you my dearest friend. I appreciate you.

Dear B,

Do we ever really move on? Is it humanly possible? There’s always something, it seems, that coaxes the mental memory, or the muscle memory to evoke those feelings so deeply that it takes one’s breath away and stirs up emotions. I fucking hate them! That’s when I want to be a duck and just paddle away. Your formatting is great because when you read through you can feel and sense the emotions. Candygram. Is that code for something other than candy? Cuz I’m thinking chocolate covered caramels, chocolate covered peanuts…
I’m really sad for the purpose of the subject however,  it’s such fab writing. H🌷

Ah, Hon, turtle and I have known each other since almost Day 1 and he is literally my heart-brother. His genius is in his genius, but also in his symbolism. A candy gram is a letter with something sweet that’s delivered. Could also be phone sex or shit like that. Sending out something you’d want to bite into.

I have been bombarded with an exes fucking body wash lately. Gift boxes of the shit in store, Amazon ads, people smelling good… like… that single sensory moment sends me back to us. Back to wringing out the sheets and finding shelter in someone’s arms. Duck paddle. All the way.

Well, crap...so much about this one that bites into the tender fleshy bits of recognition. Why can't the memory just let go when things end? Or at least mute itself enough that we can fucking move on in some kinda healthy fashion. Nope...sleepless nights, images that stick to everything. Love how you came full circle with the flower petals...it just cycles, doesn't it?

Endlessly so. As soon as I feel like I’m better… I see something of him that sets me back to square one.

Fuck.

Thank you friend. I appreciate you.

Did you have to let it linger?

OMG, linger? AHAHAHAHAAahahaha! It's not a fart, man.

Thank you.

Yeah, things linger with me. For ridiculous amounts of time.

And I have read from your works and I note your talent and intensity. I believe I have even shared that thought with you a while back?? Anyway, though in a style that differs , I’m not far behind you
In terms of quality and commitment. I’d put my top ten confidentially versus your ten in a friendly showdown outside this site. Amongst the 7 or 8 forums I’ve become familiar with this group
Of poets if judged by neutral expertise easily is last and choosing to hang here as you do mystifies me as you have obvious talent.

Robert, everything you say just strikes me wrong.

I'm here for the art, not to wallow in mental superiority. There's nothing in which to wallow; I simply am.

It's like dick size... if you have to tell me about it, it's probably not going to impress me. If you aren't far behind me, it will show, BUT... it's also not a contest.

I don't do off this site. Thanks for the offer.

Go do you. I'm here because I am here.

I'm super pissed because you have 22 poems and 39 comments. That's less than 2 comments per poem. So you want to get head, but you aren't willing to give head. Is that right?

People don't know you, so you don't show up on their updates.

Click on "updates" and it shows the poems in the theme, or, for me, the new works of the folks I follow.

Go be part of the community and watch things change. Offer support. For people asking for friendly feedback, uplift them. For people asking for honesty, try to give a piece of real advice, a thing they can do to change.

But if I want a review... I give five. I always did love to give head as much as I like to get it...

Just sayin.

I wish you well. No ill will, friend, but damn, check the ego at the door.

We are not the best poets here. There is always someone smarter and sexier. Find those folks and be their friend and you'll find this a different site.

NO.  Your method of critique conflicts with your comments. Also to review without checking my work was shortsighted and indicative of the bias you spew. I offered several Olive Branches which you arrogantly  ignored. Your choice , I’m ok w that , but that is in strong conflict with your most recent comments. Practice what you preach

But still, I figured my attempts to mitigate might inspire a similar spirit but you chose otherwise. All of your critique and shared thoughts define wallowing in a superiority pissing  contest that I had hoped to avoid. You’re just stuck on a stubborn bias that reflects a practiced hypocrisy. When you figure out how wrong you have been I will be open to gentle discussion. You disappoint and don’t really have the chops to come at me  like you have but I extended the grace to let that pass but instead you piled on. A fucking clueless amateur. Read my stuff little girl and KNOW you have quite a way to go before you catch up. So Fuck you and your fake talent that belongs on this fake site. I extended peace and you bit my hand. Fuck the fuck off and learn

OK, Boomer.


(Ahahahahahaaaaa! Omg. That was hilarious. Everything you said was vitriolic shit, and you have a small pee-pee. To quote Monty Python: Go away, or I shall taunt you a second time.’)


Tell me more!

You do what you said I did. ??
Clueless.
2nd December 2023 10:05pm Robert
It has a pace and yet leaves room for passion. The perfect thing iis everything is correct. The car ...
On Makeup sex by Betty

Darling.

Math exists.

You gave me one nice comment. So sorry. I’ll go amend that.

You dick slapped the entire site.

Let it go. You’re providing entertainment for the people who comment surf.

If you click on ‘comments’ you can see ‘all comments’ and it’s funny as fuck to watch shit like this.

Block me,  🙂

You keep lashing out to validate yourself, and that shows that I’m in charge, I’m the person you’re trying to win over and win against.

Silence is the only way to walk away with dignity. I invite you to do both. Shut up and go away.

I regret clicking on your shit.

On the plus side? I don’t need to mop the floor with you. You’re doing it to yourself.

(God this was funny.)

You ate extra clueless and really can’t write.

Baby, tell me something new.

Bob.

Bob.

Just stop. Go to bed.

This fake ass site?  Then leave, Bob. Go be "real" elsewhere.  Obviously you showed up onsite for applause and acclaim.  Your own material isn't bad, but it isn't remarkable in any way.  You're trying too hard to be "The Poet" without the craft of thoughtful writing honed well enough.  It's boring.  

And, in regards to your FU to Betty; Fuck you, wannabe.  

There's your reality, Bob.

Thank, Styx.

I appreciate you.

No worries, I got you, sister from another mister!

such a great wealth of followers commenting

Thanks. Some are followers, some are friends, some are stark assholes. But it’s all good. Thanks for stopping by!

Girl, we like what we like, we get off on what we get off on.

There will always be the echo of the one knew us best, got under our skin, fucked us best and left us for dead and some part of us will always want that person back.

No shame in knowing who we are. The best part of all this? You haven’t shattered. Your heart and mind are still intact regardless of what you may be looking at right now.

And I will ALWAYS have red ale and some cake with the sweetest, creamiest frosting for you.

I got you.

Those tendrils root and rot inside me. I swear.

Ripping them out is harder than I thought.

We really do need to get drunk together one day. Thank you for being a site sister to me. Love you girl!

Right back
At ya!!💕