#love poetry

Know what gives you pleasure. Don’t be shy of it, don’t be scared to guide your partner, show them the way to the ultimate goal❤️‍

It can be hard sometimes, but it will be worth it

Show them where to touch, lick, stare and suck. Show them your most vulnerable, yet powerful spots, show them you weaknesses and strength, show them how to love you.

And love them back. Respect them, listen to them and give back the pleasure you just got.

Remember: you are at your most powerful, when you’re together. Those feelings are what makes you so strong. Hold on to that.

salemferrellofficial:

My whims are nothing more

Than passing fancies

My thoughts no more than a sprout

…

My dreams are nothing more

Than strange realities

My melancholy no more than an out.

-s.r.f (if we were poets)

what if im not good as i think. what if my rotten soul made me unworthy of love and happiness?

you met me with a heart that was cold due to the painful lies i was told. you warmed me up and made it melt. but you took a step too far and set me on fire. now it will never glow again, you fucking liar

sometimes i wonder how many times you thought about giving up on me

probably more than i could ever bear to hear

forever doesn’t sound so scary when it’s with you

i’m done trying. u won. i’ll leave u alone

i don’t hate him i just hate the memories that come with him

i’m over it now so you can finally tell me how you really felt without any guilt

i made you a playlist and you made me a promise that you broke

tell me when and where and i’ll be there

always

it took me long to finally understand that you didn’t just not know how much i was hurting, you simply didn’t care

Poem by Pietje Kobus

Not despite, you say,because

You’ve been looking in the bathroom mirror

of our Santa Fe adobe house, beneath stained vigas

wearing your orange sports bra

and half-buckled blue jeans

a black-and-white plaid shirt in one hand—for horseback-riding

Was it five summers ago when

I saw you at Seattle’s Cyclops,

wearing a sleeveless golf shirt?

I kept staring at your shoulders,

tan and muscular, diagonal scars

I felt too timid asking about

Aren’t you worried about the age difference?

My mom says, tells her Christian friends

I was looking for a replacement. No,

my fear is dying alone, my means exhausted, becoming

the people I see as I drive along Cerrillos

pushing carts with tattered blankets and frayed satchels

I’m proud to be an old lady, you say,

love me because of my wrinkles

Turning around, my right index finger traces

the lines in your face, grazes

your flat stomach with my left hand,

Because, I whisper, I love you because

Pietje Kobus is an MFA student at the Mississippi University for Women in Columbus. She writes creative non-fiction and poetry, mostly about the long-lasting damage of harmful messages received during childhood. When she is not writing you can find her in Santa Fe, NM playing with her dogs or taking pictures along a trail. Follow here on Instagram @Pietjewrites, on Twitter @Pietje_Pykje, or on her website http://www.pietjekobus.com.