Jadedisland
A Kawaii Memoir

Poetry

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Posts tagged Experience
Loving Whiskey Ice

Written 05/10/18

Drank whiskey to live with a smile

Despite the fact come morning,

My problems lined up to fill a mile

There was something at the end of each glass, that reminded me I still existed

That all my choices weren’t to just pass

Each drop of golden bitterness

A moment to push me to the edge, 

From virgin to succubus kisses

The ice clings to stirrings in my heart, 

A warm blush of social boldness rushes in me, but I finally feel joy off the chart

They say it’s bad to seek freedom in whiskey

Makes the soul addicted while the liver weeps, all I’m trying to do is experience a life where my sorrow isn’t that deep. 

 

- Empress Jade 

Unladen Dark Wishes

Written 04/20/18 

Taught not to cry.

Okay, I’ll die.

I’ll curl inside

Embalm my soul

Teach myself to withhold

Lie to keep smiles

Truth under denial

I’ll teach myself

Not to exist

To breathe alone

Never ask for prayers

Seek nothing

Understand nothing

Trouble nothing

Touch no one

Hug no one

Be no one

This is why

now I cry.


I don’t want to die, but it feels like a truth. - Jade 🌵

ID’s Natural Market

Written 04/19/18

The affliction of lust, boils the blood intimately.  Driving skin to crave warm caresses, and dive in the decadence of soiled sheets.


The pleasure of innocence lost, and knowledge at the climax. Perhaps it’s a study session in climaxes. There is intricacy in connection at the apex of smooth thighs, or decibels of pleasure ridden cries.


Smut dripping smiles, that beckon the weary to experience a physical inquiry. One that rides, and dines in all the right places leaving sticky faces.


The mess of lust is a market of fine dining, and workouts that leave us all breathless. Riddled with intensity or laughter, or hushed words of love in the middle.


The things said during the dance of sweaty bodies, the ones that leave the mind curious if there’s more beyond the decadence of touches and thrusts. Unaware that even here there is no trust.


The sheets don’t hold promises, only the mess of quick orgasms and unsatisfaction. The pillow talk, mindless in its abandoned insertions of the faces never staying long. The truth of intimacy is not a place to belong when the soul is searching for love on the wrong tongue.

 

- Lost in you, Jade 🌵