I once slipped into the night.

And the night felt so right.

Velvet curtains, shutters bright.

With hidden pleasures from my sight.


Velvet sheets, simplicity.

As fingers march towards ecstasy.

Come say my name, sit next to me.

Or better yet… on top of me.


-Opinionated Man




I came upon a comma, and kicked it to the curb.

No time for apostrophes, let’s find some more verbs.

I once stabbed a question mark, and heard an exclamation.

Watched it bleed three periods, I felt a sense of satisfaction.




Pain Born Tears

Pain born tears never die.

Instead they slowly seep inside.

Watering hidden graves within.

Waking sleeping demons again.

At night they come out to play.

Upon a field of tears that stay.

When does sadness finally die?

When tears stop falling from waking eye.

Accepting pain for what it is.

A crutch of life that I miss.






Come sweet embrace.

Caressing face.

I tremble at your word.

Come faster pace.

No time for lace.

Our actions become a verb.

Whisper now.

Gently now.

Given sweet reward.

Emotional motion.

I am devotion.

There is nothing I want more.






I could shine a light into the night.

But why would I want to see the night?

Even when I close my eyes it’s not right.

The dreams. The night terrors. It’s never right.

I could run a mile but never gain an inch.

Just an inch. Half an inch.

I’ll take what I can get.