I.Marlene Serna

by Horror Sleaze Trash on May 23, 2017

I.Marlene Serna was born in 1996 in Dallas, Texas and currently lives in College Station, Texas. She is a young, American writer who has written poems and short stories. She is a student at Texas A&M University- College Station, Class of 2019.



What does the heart want?



I want love. I want your

heart to be mine. Be

my always my life my light—

I want a thump-thump heart throbs—

heart spans heart yearns heart be mine.



I want your lips. So warm

soft wet smooth, against mine. Glisten

under campus lights, brighten the night,

red bruises—bite—suck—holding—

each other, each other tight

hold my hand, my light my bright—

my sunshine.



I want your trust. Open arms

I empty my hands

I will not leave lie cheat

revealing all, you see through me

noticing, aware eyes

glass to souls—

souls to hearts—hearts to sight

Clear, not—

bought broken shattered shot.



I want your touch. Religion is

capture; rapture

rush rave mark trace pace press feel reach—

pure bare.

Sin is

crime; ecstasy

deep risk tremble shake—

infinite melody.

One day-night; dark-light; soft-rough

bad-good; sin-holy.


I want your hugs. Yes, like gold


I feed I sleep I drink

I dream I hold I need

a step of Faith, we have

Fate. We embrace

Fate, move my

holy dove. One

throne Faith Truth aim.



I want you. We are always

wild, always

young, always

free. You and I, Us, We—

don’t wanna be like them, because We—

can make it ‘til the end

A new age now; sunlight

ignite my dawning. Halo

my heart. Souls

sewn into skies.







First Time



Like a tattoo you give

beautiful pain. First kiss is

sweet—warm. Mystery green eyes

watch—mine; you are my

perfect—size. You smell of

musky—fresh—mint, you taste of

warm—bliss, you feel of

smooth—warmth, you hug of

pure—need, you kiss of

positive light.



Affection, affects

us, prayers granted, we,—

touch feel pull tug bite suck lick breathe us.

We near edge. With

seared souls you lotion,—

my skin with

pure bliss.



Say your Grace, Bless

me, yes I

give thanks, But


holy water’s gonna

burn on me

I ain’t no angel

none gonna

greet me, slow fast breach—

Honey, see

Church, does not

fascinate me—

open mouth

oh, so warm—wet


fist me, labels are just

not, for you—me



Yes us, spread

heat, rush

warmth, pure

need. Please

span stretch pace reach.


Sometimes love drunk or—

is it lust, some nights I

touch, spread legs it’s a—

rush, warm hot wet

I wish it was—

your touch



Trace my

line shape figure

curves on me—

Continuity, Honey

Our limit—

does not exist, we have

our own, Calculus



Mine. Whisper

in my ear, “don’t be shy”

Curtains drawn

Move shape hot grind. We move,

we move, we move as one.



Your lips speak

“I’m good with anything, I’m good with nothing” Yes, I am


You are just so

tempting, so

sweet, like

ice cream. Yes, you are my

first time.






Bed and Fridge


She got me up daily!

Oooh girl, you got me

sprung. You are so

cold-smooth to the

touch. Silver-front black-edges

You burrrrrrrrr me

to sleep. Lay on these sheets that

clothe me. With comfort

Lay on me.


Baby, cool me

Oh, when you spread open

cool breeze. Let me melt

Your ice. You turned on 24/7

plugged in and runnin’ like a

7-eleven. Pull push jump

On me.

I spring I hold I flex

Every edge on you

I will



Oh, you cool my springs

Hungry, I crave

Fill me. Baby

memory foam

Ain’t got nothing on me.


Every crevice corner edge curve

I will plush and

Lull you

to sleep.


Your front is cold

hot in your

Behind. I squish I dip I plush

Sink into my


Baby, whirlpool my



I want to hear you

Bounce. Destress

muscles ease not



Baby, our hearts inside

don’t lie. Half of

the same. Love—

Hallelujah. I pray the Lord

Please just

Stay. Lay on me

We are one of

the same.




Casey Renee

by Horror Sleaze Trash on May 21, 2017

Casey Renee Kiser writes for people like herself, assholes with short attention spans who love poetry but got other shit to do too. Her hobbies include hosting tea parties with decapitated dolls and perfecting her koala impersonation. She lives in the small town of none of your business.






ghost gloss –

slide it over my lips

smack ’em once,

smack ’em twice













Every time I see James Franco,

I get bromance crabs.

Fuck James Franco.

Every time he smiles,

a Cheshire cat takes a shit.

Fuck James Franco

and his pineapple express dick face.

I had a nightmare

that James Franco also wrote poetry.



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