What is love? Freewriting.

What is love?
Is it real?
There's no validation for the way I feel.
What is this feeling?
A selfish ploy?
Perhaps to fill my insecure void.
If I was truly confident
Would I need you here?
Would I still appreciate those words I need to hear?
Is love an object?
One that cannot not be held...
But truly felt.
Holding us close together as would a strong buckled belt.
Whatever it is...
It seems I have no choice in this matter.
Because its become a part of me that does not tatter.
It wraps around me in my time of need, although to you it lays unseen.
What is love?
Is it real?
How could something so beautiful,
Keep itself concealed,
While warming me and swarming me,
With feelings so surreal.

Take it to the head. Erotic poetry.

Fresh out the shower;
I sit upon the bed.
He's licking the Dutch closed;
Cravings encircle my head.
He places the flavored cigar right between my lips;
Lays me down and makes a home between my hips.
The lighter flicks and i inhale;
Smoke fills the room with intoxicating smells.
He nuzzles his nose into my cleft;
I breath out all the exotic smoke that my lungs have left.
He works away between my knees;
With a heated desire to feed.
Again, i toke, but not with ease;
I'm choking, its potent, and its hard to breath.
I exhale but at the same time i have no relief;
My kitty is purring and he's in wrist deep.
Like a fountain, the liquid is quenching his thirst;
But not before he makes sure I come first.
The ash drops hot on my chest;
A reminder to Puff, puff, pass...smoking at its best.

Freestyle Poetry -

Over whelming winding paths,
Leading me away from broken past.
Looking behind,
but still running towards a new frame of mind.
Winding paths begin to straighten,
My humbled soul begins to strengthen.
The voice inside me loud and proud,
The voice that screams out the time is now.
One step at a time the path is rough,
But I learned that each step is a step enough.
As long as my feet are moving and the path is swooning,
I AM Success.