huggybear23 Avatar
A prose poem by


Submitted Jun 1, 2009, 2:11:14 AM

a look

He doesn't give you that silly look. The look a horny teenager gives to any girl that walks by and his little head tells him he wants to fuck. He gives you that hungry look, like a king of kings, a look powerful and dominating. A look that delicately says "You are mine, I am going to posses every thing you are and nothing you do can stop me". In the end your essence will be begging for it to happen. Your body, your mind, your soul, your breath, your will, they are all his. Every time he crosses your thoughts your knees will tremble and your breathing will become heavy. When you hear his voice you will feel hate and fear, but at the same time you will feel liberated and relieved and everything else will not matter. All your inhibitions will become his to play with. If you ever defy him it is because he wants you to. You won't become his slave, no. Slaves rebel and despise their masters; they mask their hatred and plot the death of their tyrant. You will surrender yourself to him and be happy, and his existence in your life will become a necessity to you. After that look you will be simply and unconditionally, his.

Peter Garcia


kt6550 Avatar


Commented Feb 15, 2011, 4:29:32 PM
That last paragraph really needs to be broken up into a bunch of paragraphs.

Also, you have some punctuation and grammatical errors.

A very thought-provoking essay.