Nov 7 ’17
His cheeks I wanna kiss.
Those cheeks so prominent.
Endless kisses from this Miss.
Not a fucking kiss missed.

Miss… miss him.
Wouldn’t use that term yet.
It’s more of a… longing.
I long for him, yet…
It’s for more than a schlonging.
His schlong, however.

How deep should we get.
Dirt’s accumulated already.
Permanently trapped.
In all my mind’s creases.
Sapiosexual orgasm releases.
With thoughts untamed.

He’s merely only dabbled.
Inside complexities of my mind.
Innocently ignorant.
To complications of my consciousness.
“You can show me the complications,
Or complexities, of your consciousness.” he says.

I stutter.
Belly flutters.
Lights flicker.
Saliva’s thicker.
Who is he?
That one drinking Irish Moss…

He speaks of his nutrition.
My attent pitches a tent.
Finding him, I’ll fucking never resent…
“Tell me more.
The things you buy from the grocery store.”
My panties slowly slipping to the floor…

He’s always busy.
My angels nudge me.
Hush child, don’t say always.
Make space for the day.
You’re face to face with his cheeks.
Ugh… My knees get weak.



I like you.
That’s why I’m going crazy…
I’ve a mad crush on you.
Got my head all in a hazy, it’s crazy.
Dazed feelings.
They’re not sure which way to turn.
From twisted angles, sharp left turns.
So I fuckin’ masturbated.
Didn’t help.
And you’re far from help…
Said you’d choke me.
That would help.
But na, still a dream.
A dream that makes me scheme.
As I admire you… from afar.
Epiphany bein’, I never got far.
From the last one.
The last… “situation”, out of reach.
The “situation” before that… out of reach.
I’m not here to preach, just observe…
You know, that makes you number 3.
Maybe it’s the same 3, that’s been haunting me.
Everytime I see a number, suprise!
3… 33… 3:33.
Still hasn’t helped me.
Still haven’t visited me.
What’s Universe tryna teach me…
Karma? Past life issues?
What’s the block, cage, barrier issue?
What’s it teaching me… Fuck.
My mind gets fucked.
I’d like to fuck… your physical.
I want it so much.
Sex addict low key.
More like high key contained.
Where you at?
Needin’ you… beside me… meshed with me… in me.
Midnight shimmy.
Come fuckin’ give me.

MY CANVAS by Abby Jean

Oct 30 ’17

Light. Light. Light.
Think light.
I make his head hurt.
I laugh out loud.
I know I do.
‘Cause I make mine hurt too.
Think light.
Write light.
I feel lighter.
After writing you.
You’re like my canvas.
I use you at my leisure.
I use you for my pleasure.
I’m sorry.
I don’t mean to twist your brain.
As I share words of my insane.
You’re just, my canvas.
You’re my art.
You allow me expression.
You take it.
This life is strange.
This reality surreal.
This odd tie won’t break.
It only takes breaks.
His head’s heavy already.
I’m adding more weight.
I know that, and I don’t stop.
I consciously step onward.
Giving soul expression top value.
Knowing disease unfolds when I keep hold.
I must.
I must write.
Dark and light.
Make it light.
I switch the script.
Think light.
Exhale gratitude.
I boldly show me to he.



I fucking wanna see you so bad.
Be in close proximity of your aura.
I want to write that to you.
Was originally about to…
But I thought better.
More clever to keep it from you.
Similar to everything kept from me.

I had so many questions for you last night.
So many questions.
Profound… Powerful… Brave.
So many things I wanted to tell you.
Exposed from the magick of the mushroom.
Exploded from the depths of my being.

I fucking wanna see you so bad.
You offer only imagination to run on.
I run.
I run far with it.
Mostly too far… athletic by nature, driven.
You swirl my passion.
Your oddity twirls, tangles mine.

I meditate instead.
Find, discover what I’m shown.
I feel my throat chakra tight.
Thinking of you.
Fuck. I just wanna talk with you.

TENFOLD by Abby Jean

To keep it real and honest…
It was his friend that drew me in.
Height gives me excite.
But then I looked into his eyes.
Got sucked deep inside.

Who the fuck is this….?

Suddenly I see nothing else around me.
Blurred, blanked out… even his (sexy) body.
Not my mind however…
My mind now kicked into overdrive.
Quickly processing rapidly increasing energies.
Creating synergies.

Words I’d normally be swallowing.
Flying loose, like wild wallowing.
My conscious asking my subconscious again.
Who the fuck is this….?
Please don’t let me hear anymore.
I’ll be begging for more on the floor.

His mind so intriguing.
His spirit so I’m needing.
His intenseness humbly protruding.
Seeping secrets of his intricacies.
His body, fuck.
We won’t go there…

Knowing full well he can’t stay.
Knowing full well he’s flying away.
To my dismay…
Got me praying that one day,
I relive this soulmate moment with him.


Aug 28 ’17
I feel like I haven’t written him a poem in awhile.
I feel like that because I haven’t.
I think of him all the time.
I’ve taken the time in between times..
To let him know.
He knows already.
I feel it when I see him.
He sees me too.
I feel like… I don’t have to explain.
Like… I can express anything to him.
He might crank his neck sideways to understand.
He might have to take my words as takeout.
Eat them later.
But he never looks at me crooked.
He knows.
He knows where I come from.
The level of comfort…..
The level of comfort that places me in…….
I think of him all the time.
The strange thing is.
I never see him as my boyfriend.
In my visions.
I somehow see him as… like… a twin.
The flame style.
I see him as… a reflection.
I’m repeating myself I know.
Repeating when I hate repetition.
But it’s a next-level felt, this thing.
I study it.
Study the frequency between us.
Study the reason I need us.
I haven’t written him a poem in awhile.
I’m gonna send this one.

LONE WOLF by Abby Jean

He said, “I’d rather be left in the dark, than caught in the sun.”
He’d rather be left in the dark, than caught in the sun.
So deep.
Deep diving…
I’d rather deep dive in his mind.
I wanna deep dive in his mind – Badly.
Deeply bad.
So complex.
So intricate.
So introvert and mysterious.
I want it.
I want in.
I want in it soooo fucking bad.
You haven’t a clue.
I can’t put this want in words.
Deep dive in his mind.
A fairytale come true.
A moonlight dream, come true.
I message him sweet somethings.
Here and there.
“Good Morning…”
“Have a splendid day…”
They wreak of cheese, and I send them.
I want to pour sweetness from his crown down.
Like syrup, like honey oozing thick.
Enough sweetness to cover his everything.
I have it.
I have it in me, dormant.
I’d say patiently waiting, but I don’t think there’s any end to this wait.
This wait is nothing but weight.
Well it’s more, but, ya know…
This weight teaches me things about myself.
Through torment.
By not dropping to rock bottom.
Or rocketing straight out a volcano.
My response to dismay teaches me.
I thank him for that.
He doesn’t know it.
But I thank him for that.
I text him “Come fuck me”, well basically.
The words I choose are more clever though.
At least I think so.
So as to not bore him.
I’m not a basic bitch.
So as to have him know his complex mind relates to mine.
I think too much, perhaps you’re thinking.
Well guess what, I do.
Thinking is vital after feeling what I feel.
Thinking is my only hope.
My only chance to create a silver lining.
Wonder is everything to me.
I text him “Slither hither…”
He knows what it means.
But does he? Do I?
He has me confused.
He even spots my confusion.
He calls it out, between the lines.
He still can’t do anything about it.
Can’t… doesn’t… won’t…
I like to stick with can’t, feels better.
I understand, as I swallow it down.
It being every complexity of this… relationship.
Calm down, not boyfriend girlfriend.
That would be out of this world, cosmic.
I’m referring to this earthly human to human “relationship”.
Soul to soul, ya know.
I message him, “Come to my chamber.”
Insinuating Love making.
I want it.
I want him.
Mmmm… I want what he gives.
But it’s because that’s my only chance of anything.
Behind my insinuating words however, there’s a whole other level.
I’m really just pushing persuasion to reel him in.
So I can study him.
Spend a little time with him.
To satisfy my relentless desire.
To know him.