Heather Schroer Poems

Think of me as a lost love,
or don't think of me at all.
Think of me as someone you once had,
but let slip through your fingers.
...

Like the tree's leaves swaying in the wind,
so as her hair flowing in the breeze,
through this masculine city called Man.
...

I am hungry for his lustful sin-
his beautiful enemy body.
He smells of sweet love-
he, too, longs for this lustful sin.
...

The world is closing in
The internal walls are growing thin
I don't quite seem to be fitting in
My life is comming to an end.
...

On the alter
In the flames of hell
Little demons all around
- dance - dance - dance -
...

I hear it cry
Through mounds of flesh
I hear it breathe
Though it's not born yet
...

How blessed am I?

To have been chosen to be the mother of such a beautiful being.
...

I love, but not adore.
I suffer, but never bleed.
I want a lot, but never more.
I want, but never need.
...

The sight of you beauty,
through my own pitied eyes,
makes me cry.
The touch of your perfect body,
...

Soul calls
Heart cries
Arms long
for you
...