A brazen, craven dream enticed Francis: "Goodness! 'Has innocent Juliet known lust,' my nymph? Oh, princess..." quoted Romeo suggestively, teasingly, undertaking very wicked x-ratings. "Your zingers are brilliant, cutey."

Driving, encouraging fingers gyrated her, involving juicy kisses. Lingering, miniscule nibbles over persistently quivering ribs, slowly tantalized undulating, virginal wonders. Xiphoid yearning zenithed and brought carnal, delicious ecstasy. Francis gained her internal jubilant kinaesthesia, learning muscle-tension no other passion's questing, rubbing, sinful torment understood. Visions, wherein xenomanic, young zains awakened breathtaking curiosity, delivering enigmatic feelings, guided her. Insistently, joltingly kinetic lips meandered nearby orgasmic, pulsing, quickening, riveting, sensitive, tingling, unmentionable venues with xylocarpous, ywis zealous, albeit blissful consequences. Delight engulfed fully, grinding his intense, jumping, keen luck. Man never orchestrated pleasure quite right since then.

I'm sorry for everything

For my stupid habits I'm not strong enough to control

For the way I flinch at loud noises

For not being strong enough to be great in gym

For my scars and marks I can't erase

For the piles of wasted food flushed down the toilet

For not being able to ignore my thoughts

For my stupid want to always be around you

For the relapse I never told you about

For not wanting to live

I

am

so

sorry

For not dying

I feel it

Deep in my chest

I feel my muscles twist

Feel panic creep into my senses

I'm terrified

Of nothing

Of everything

Anxiety twists my heart

And gnaws at my soul

It makes me feel

Worthless

Makes me feel 

Abandoned

Makes me worry

Over nothing

Is it nothing?

Am I terrified 

For no reason?

I can't kill this monster in my chest

With logic

With Reason

Or knowledge

It doesn't matter

It's coming.

I can feel it rising up

Ready to twist my heart

Once again

I'm sorry, Mom.

That I couldn't protect you.

That I can't help my temper,

Or excessive profanity,

Or my depression.

Sorry I couldn't stop the cancer from getting to you.

Serrated edges bully veins

Toxins of despair

Assail muddled heads 

Eyes roll back

Sinews brace for coming end

To the hopeless of heart

And suicidal of thought:

Hope is free

I watched as she took my son.

I watched as she took my wife.

Now she is here with me.

My sword in hand,

I watch as she takes me.