humor
Build A Babe
I laid out all the needle work chose string that's strong and tight I'm stitching up the girl I need on this September night Her dark black hair is long and sleek It flows down past her waist She's tall and thin with stitches I've got exquisite taste I packed her head with witty jokes and gave her brains to spare a brilliant baddie, bold and cute with a seductive glare She opens up those killer eyes She's such a lovely sight I built myself a masterpiece on this cold, rainy night I trace the seams along her waist It feels a little naughty She is perfect. Fierce and fine A total stitched up hottie I gave her legs that go for miles a sharp and cheeky grin I sprinkled a little attitude upon her greenish skin "Don't bite the hand that sewed you, Babe," I chuckle with a wink She rolls her dark eyes right at me and asks for a cold drink So, I pour a cup of big brain thoughts a nice and full supply So she can roast my life choices with just a single sigh Her raven hair cascades in waves a gorgeous, creepy dream She looks me up and down and says She's crooked at one seam I built a drop dead monster girl It took some elbow grease but now she's totally in charge My favorite masterpiece I tuned her curves with custom bolts she's one hundred outta ten with fishnets laced up to her waist A vibe that slays all men She's got that spooky dark girl glam a gorgeous little smile with shiny lips and razor teeth and a wicked sense of style She's sassy, hot, and dangerous a sweet, psychopathic dime who roasts me till I'm black and blue So sexy, it's a crime She pops her hip and looks at me I melt right where I stand "You built a queen, you clever boy... Now kiss my bony hand!" She checks her nails, adjusts her pins then smirks and grabs my shirt "You did alright for a human, I guess, now buy me some dessert!"
By Sara Wilson2 months ago in Poets
Dead Boys Do It Better. Top Story - September 2026.
Forget the boring men who breathe They're basic, dull, and slow My lover's six feet underground and puts on quite a show 👻 At first, he came to haunt my house with eerie, spooky groans But now he leaves me lovey notes scrawled on paper tomb stones 👻 He haunts my bedroom and my heart he boops me on the nose He floats in through my window and hands me a blue rose 👻 He whispers his sweet nothings right into my ear Some say call an exorcist but he's nothing to fear 👻 He never leaves me on unread no waiting for a chime His planchette flies across the board in record breaking time 👻 "Spell out that naughty thing you want" I whisper in the dark The planchette spells out kinky things and ignites a filthy spark 👻 His hands are vapor, slick and cold I hold them tight in mine He gives me wet and wicked dreams crossing every single line 👻 A little shiver shooting down my spine when he gets near I feel him slide right into place though nothing might appear 👻 His ectoplasm dripping down my fishnets and my thong intangible and soaking wet He loves me all night long 👻 Don't need a condom or the pill there's no chance of a kid Just icy, spectral residue as proof of what we did 👻 Posted couples pics and comments lied "You're posing with the air!" Bitch, open up your third eye, please... He's literally right there 👻 I love my sweet, transparent man He's always in my head A love like ours is hard to find especially when they're dead 👻 No living guy could ever match his cold, and spooky thrill He leaves me tingling and hot and begging for him still 👻 My heart is permanently his I'm possessed from head to toe Why date a man who's still alive when dead guys love you so? 👻
By Sara Wilson2 months ago in Poets
Thorns
For years, she dwelled within the shade a maiden born of night with darkened lips, dressed all in black hiding from the light 🌹 She shaved off her eyebrows dressed as a vampire queen and rumors echoed through the halls They wanted her to feel unseen 🌹 "No more black," the mother spat "I will not support this phase!" Bashing all the onyx threads that made her daughters days 🌹 Along came the girl of flowers and field who mocked the dark girls art She sneered at nails of painted jet and claimed a bright, pure heart 🌹 But as the seasons slowly passed the imp pulled off a theft She stole the bats, the dark, the notes Till nothing true was left 🌹 Now posing in a borrowed face she claims she built the throne while painting over history to claim it as her own 🌹 No pictures hanging in the hall she can't hold a memory for long The wicked mother praises the fake and calls the true one wrong 🌹 She spun her lies for sixty years with no ounce of regret She blamed the court's old, darkened knight for seeds he never set 🌹 "Since when," she spat, "Do you adore this dark and dreary lace?" The daughter shoved a handful of photos in her empty, ignorant face 🌹 A hundred portraits from the past skin pale, eyes dark and bold proved every word the mother spoke was toxic, rotten mold 🌹 At her side, the shape shifting imp who once wore fields and bloom who sneered at nails and vampire tales came slinking in the room 🌹 She pulls her mask upon her face and shouts her new decree "I know the rules of dark and night, You're not as goth as me!" 🌹 "You cannot think or feel that way! My scrolls declare it so! I read the guide online today... so, I'm the one who knows!" 🌹 She points a plastic finger down and sneers with bitter pride "You do not fit the trend right now! Go step away and hide!" 🌹 "You're a fake!" the imp shrieks "A poser in the light!" While clinging to the brand new script she memorized last night 🌹 She once sang of butterflies and wore a preppy gown Now she steals bats off the walls and wears a 3D printed crown 🌹 She cakes her face in makeup and changes up her name She scrolls through instant witch scrolls to learn the ancient game 🌹 She preaches rules she never learned "You must be this or that!" She hides behind a darkened filter A fake and fleeting bat 🌹 She calls the originals 'a fraud' to hide her filtered skin Denying everything she mocked before she jumped right in 🌹 The queen who earned her velvet dress through decades in the cold now watches lemmings trade their silk for trendy, painted gold 🌹 She wears a crown of twisted thorns a shield no fraud can break Her dark roots tangled deep in earth A place untainted by the fake 🌹 Imps lie and claim they 'live their truth' They blind their eyes to spite Protecting every fake facade to keep their hatred bright 🌹 They all can slither in stolen clothes their trends will rot and fade Queens are born of real obsidian Not cheap online parade
By Sara Wilson2 months ago in Poets
First Date
I wrote this thinking it would be a fun song. However, I can’t sing. AI can sing, but still produces mostly subpar music, and VERY cruddy duets. Trust me, I went down a rabbit hole at 1am, trying to get AI to sing this. I managed to create a decent version with just one voice.
By Marlena Guzowski2 months ago in Poets
