"Voyeur"

"Voyeur" 

You may already know.
Maybe you can see me.
Privy to the nerve
of you sharing time reserved
exclusively for singularity.
Fancy me.
I bear witness.
Bear with me.
Lament with my desire
to observe your excavation.
Tools fashioned with the intent
to push past your extent.
Extensive stints before deep breaths.
I'm to wonder what is left.
Right hand clutching the mantle
as you ravage and dismantle.
You mangle as if entangled.
Lips clasp with every breach;
yet you continue to reach deep.
I sit and watch with every move.
You tug and yank;
probing in need of reprieve.
No doubt I should leave;
lest I implore your detection.
Your inflection piques my interest.
Can't see past you for days.
Legs emerging from their quilted maze
squirming beneath stained sheets.
They reach for the ceiling
in yearn of the skies.
They flail and flutter
in response to your cries.
I'm already hung
but you're not done yet.
Hair ringing wet.
You're nearly set.
Perspire in pleasure.
Your motivation measured
by what barely merits murmur.
How long I've hoped to circumvent
secrets that unlock your intent.
Is it I that you lust after?
Inquiry addressed by laughter
but I've serious all the same.
Yes. I hear my name;
but what features are envisioned?
I can't help but listen
as if the moment would change.

Nonetheless, 

Your flowing night gown
is more short skirt than dress
given this current encounter.
Counter clockwise circulatory shifts
between the moist cherry
and her two swollen lips.
Tight grips follow finger slips
and I'm sure I've lost mine.
Knees bent to this cold pine
breathing hard behind this door
and you plunge in; asking for more.
You bypass moans for screams.
Lust so smooth and thick
flowing like an endless stream.
Freshest furnishing of cream.
I sit her stirring
while you lay in silence.
Violent the means of my intent;
but not nearly as terrible
as the abuse that you rile in.
Compiled with the fact
that the air we now share is thin
is my overlooking your inviting grin............
................................................
.....guess that means I can come in.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz 

"Master's Puppet"

"Master's Puppet"

So long I've fancied severance.
Compensation in raw form.
Driven deeper into chests
Than pearls clutched below necks
And yet you unlock it at will.
I remain still; even amid beckoning.
Your subconscious is vast and unruly;
Laying summon to that which never lived.
Doing what I can
To give you some semblance of normalcy.
Dormancy seems fitting for you:
Alone laying awake behind drapes.
Haunted by your transgressions
And swift defeats you fondly recall,
Heads bang against walls.
Fortune is my only protection.
I know nothing of your plight.
You scream as if I've planned this.
I'm not meant to understand this.
I'm indifferent to your trials.
We have traveled miles
For children with bright smiles
And have very little to show.
Used to place me where light glows.
I am now bound to my threads
and thrown under the bed.
Can't recall what words were read
Or the harsh things that were said.
Your gimmick is your plague.
Vague will serve you extensively.
They ignore the recluse.
Your manic wiles a mystery
Better left for the old or untold.
Who would be so bold
Of a wandering vagabond
To stand before your scold?
Only me, I'm afraid.
Lifeless instrument of diversion
Still unable to lend aversions
To your countless fits of perversion.
Your dim beam of liberty
Shown as a path of considerable libation
Amid foul acts unfit for the sane.
I never sought to pick your brain.
I am your greatest failure.
Triumphant in your downfall,
You drag me as you crawl.
How I detest closed quarters.
Nights I've sat in this corner:
Wet and mangled,
My threads tangled,
unfit to greet the day
But to my dismay,
I am wiped off and unbound.
You work in secrecy
As if I would make a sound.
I sit upon your lap;
Pretending to recite fables
Until placed on wooden tables;
Be it countertops or barrels.
Spruced up and unraveled
to an audience less enchanted
With what you've barely managed
Than how pathetic we seem in vantage.
My garb like a dirty bandage;
Barely concealing or healing my scars.
The embodiment of what is truly marred.
I dance as a distraction;
But in my mockery of vanity,
Do I serve more as a fantasy
Or your last shred of sanity?
Am I your display of propriety
Hiding what their eyes might see?
No doubt you're ashamed.
They are not entertained.
The bond between us surely strained;
But we cling nonetheless.
You manipulate my threads
Until I tread under your rhythm.
Silence rips into you;
Rooting deep within your mind.
Your levity isn't hard to find;
But you choose to stand behind.
I am not you;
But you are we.
Herein we are bound;
We can be free;
But you hold fast to my strings.
Such feeble things.
The frailty of each extension
Making tangible the tension
That you succumb to earnestly.
How easy is the release?
No complexity or crease.
Just threads woven in unison
Bound to what has claimed your peace.
I can't implore your decision.
If able to manifest this vision,
It would be a swift division
And we would part ways.
Can't say that I've grown tired.
Can't claim to have retired.
Can't even regulate my tone
To ask you to leave me alone.
And you can't do what you can.
You are your own sanctuary
Locked behind a cage of loathing.
A million keys line your clothing;
But here I prance.
To your music I shall dance;
Unfit to shield your emotions
Yet routine in my devotion.

Part the curtains
And take your chances.
All that remains certain
Are their judgmental glances.

 

























Written By: Devin Joseph Metz