I have reached my conqueror,
ran into his arms not blindfolded.
I didn’t lie to him, I merely looked at him and performed wholeheartedly what he’d
already seen happen.
I did what a child who can’t stand on her own would do.
Now he feels sorry for me, not sympathy
wondering why I won’t come out; say
Do this for me, or give me space to learn to do it for myself.
My conqueror can’t chase me away,
he knows I’ve nowhere to run, his side is where my road has led
And if he could, I’d hang myself by cloud
float on his sunny day sky; so not even dust of me would remain.
I’m shameless.
Knowing there’s not much I can do
yet refuse to give him my consent.
I won’t be a puppy after all…
So he takes me everywhere he needs to go,
when asked who I am he puts on shades
and tells them one of the strays;
even given water, I’d still need the cup
to be brought to my mouth.
I don’t complain, I never speak against those comments.
I listen to every word he utters regarding me,
filling my library for when I go to sleep on
the mat by the foot of his bed;
every word he said
would be my replay bedtime story when he requests one.
We are in a relationship,
he had the strength to lull my overwrought thoughts
and I the meekness to withstand the wrath of his unleashed words.
It’s not strength on my part,
it’s that where I’m from he’d only be fooling around and my thoughts can conjure barricades against such attacks.
Nothing I’ve not done before.
I feel pity for him, sympathy it could be
His eyes smile thinking my eyes alight
because he’s reached me;
Only to realize I was looking at an ant
carrying crumb of bread as though carrying a country.
I want his lashing out to make me bleed once,
see if the sight of blood would make him wince and rush for a bandage
Or, arouse his animal and make him lick the wound clean;
whichever would make my eyes blink,
I’ve forgotten the act can come naturally.
I’ve counted all my conqueror’s faces and
there’s one I always look forward to,
Him looking at me intensely and saying;
I wonder if hell is looking for you…