Dirty Mind Poems Novels & Stories

--- Darkness swallowed me. Not like falling down— But falling inward. Beneath my skin. Beneath my soul. Every breath unravelled into smoke. Every thought shattered like stars turning cold. No sky. No ground. Only silence. Then—shatter. Visions tore through me like flame through glass: A silver temple in ruin. Its towers split. Its altar is nothing but ash. Inside, wolves burned. Not in agony— In ecstasy. Their howls were hymns, as if they’d waited centuries to be devoured by flame.

The world turned, and I couldn’t move. Sleep came and went in thin, broken waves. My eyes closed and opened to the tick of the hearth, to my own uneven breathing. I dreamed of ash. I dreamed of hands I couldn’t wash clean, and of others I once thought gentle. I woke at dawn with the taste of iron on my tongue and silence sitting heavy in the air like guilt that wouldn’t fade.

Ray. Today started with waking up in the embrace of the most beautiful, most affectionate soul I’ve ever met and feeling like I got my fucking ink all over him. I felt like I was tarnishing him, digging him deeper into the black fucked-up hole of my existence until he’d also be submerged in it. Until he’d have no way out, like me. That’s why I didn’t want him to see me. I didn’t want anyone to see me. Because the moment they get past the perfect image to look inside, they’ll find a grimy, spineless piece of fucking shit whose worst enemy is his own mind.

His voice was dark and full of promise when he whispered, “I’m going to own all of you. Body, mind, and soul.” A shiver ran down my spine, and my body clenched even harder around the one beneath me. His words weren’t just dirty—they were a vow. A claim. My body responded instantly, heat rushing through me, my heart racing like it might burst. His hands spread my cheeks apart slowly, exposing me in a way that made me whimper. I felt completely at their mercy, open and vulnerable, but instead of fear, there was only need. Then I felt it—the wet, hot slide of his spit hitting my tight, untouched hole. I gasped out loud, my head snapping up at the sensation. The act was filthy, shameless, and it

My mind instantly became a filthy movie, one crude thought after another flashing through my head in half a minute. I stood up again and excused myself. I needed air. I needed to get my mind out of the fucking gutter and my heart to stop trying to beat its way out of my chest. But no amount of cold water on my face could wash away those dirty thoughts. Nothing could stop the porno playing in my head.

If we were on another floor, the neighbors would sure have sent in a complaint. She's lights out after I fuck her a second time, and I get up from the guest bed and leave her there. I'm clearly not drunk enough because memories assault me when I get into the shower and wash away the stench of yet another woman. This is the cycle, I fuck them and afterwards I need to clean myself. I can't really stand their touch. I'm fucked, ruined by a ghost. Lost by a possibility that will never be. Even after two orgasms, it takes me a while to drift off into sleep, only to be woken up by light slaps on my cheek.

I tried to glance outside through the small window, but I failed enormously in my attempt to get a glimpse, the rain was falling dangerously on the streets of New Delhi and I could feel the shine of the moon on my heart. there must be thousands of poets wondering tonight what they write about the glorious beauty of the sky, there must be hundreds of lovers trying to hide in the wisdom glance of the moonlight and I am here with nothing in my mind wandering about my life. I still remember yesterday, as it is right in front of my eyes, I still remember when there was no one for me, and I still regret, regret all the times. the loud voice increased again making me lose my mind, my throat was dry

(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW) I feel dirty. No matter how much I try to scrub my body clean under the shower, I still feel filthy and the more images of Vance between my legs, giving me an orgasm deluges my mind, the dirtier I feel. I can't feel the briny of my tears because of the running water over my head but they continue to spew down my face while thought after thought spirals round and round in my head, inundating me with the feeling of trepidation and solicitude.

Love so very true in reds, that beat within our heart, shadows black take form as hate, which tears the soul apart. Greens of joy and happiness, lush grass beyond compare, sadness, shrouded depths of blue, the waters of despair. Yellow screams of agony and pain which we endure. Guilt and shame are shades of grey, a torrential downpour. Earthy brown desires are that for which we lust, the loss of which comes with age, like chrome begins to rust. The image changing constantly as time plods slowly on,

I hide it so well, I smile my mind run miles, I speak no words my energy’s thought… I’m troubled. Can you see? My eyes wonder every path, My mind has wondered about, I wonder……’ ‘No, no, no. I cannot do this to myself. The moment I allow this thoughts, this poem conversion of mine to go on, I will go deeper. I need to stop thinking’