An 'I am busy daydreaming' Adventure

First in a series of poems about a teenage writer finally grasping her dark prince. Along with him, her own dark fairytale. (Others will be longer, this is a TASTER)

Too all the teenage chick writers out there who are still dizzy from their last reverie…

 

An

    I am busy daydreaming

                                     Adventure

                           (So lock that damn bedroom door!)

 

A gasping man fell abruptly into my bedroom’s light too bright,

That was rented from my writing desk and was denying him of sight,

He cowered from the lemon beam and carried the pain with little grace,

His face scrunched up, his eyes agleam, his naked chest did he tense and brace,

 

I wondered what had happened to make him so flesh clad and tired,

And then I noticed his bewitching visage and suddenly I was but wired,

Caffeine shot through my skeleton and branded me shiny and young,

He saw with eyes drunk in midnight sun and in an instant I knew I was done,

 

“You’re beautiful” said the stranger, his voice trembling but his lips excited,

After all of my dumb luck with the boys, I couldn’t help but grow delighted,

His mouth was the finest of fine pinot grape, his torso slick under the light,

His eyes adjusted, his lips agape, and then he was out of my sight,

 

I stopped breathing when he came from behind me,

His arms locking one on my shoulder and the other my waist,

He leant on down and with his crown,

This dark prince my neck did he taste,

 

Mm,

 

And we descended into what was a teenage writer’s dream,

In a stream of ghostly black sugar and gleam,

Me and my dark prince? Happily ever after I should want to see,

But then again, my love, my reader, what kind of story would that be?

 

Too be continued…

  

Author's Note

I wrote this on impulse but hopefully I can turn it into something great and sort of relatable in a way. Tell me what you think!

Reviews

[PyroKitty24]

I really enjoyed this~ it was a good write