And I feel like a shadow following submissively a long.
Unnoticed.
I make no sound, only repeating the motions I have been equipped to follow.
My manual, just empty pages because I'm not even my own person or am I?
I have no story to tell, just watching, waiting for you to write so I can follow suit.
And I follow you, everywhere you go, but every time it gets a little dark in this room I disappear.
Because you no longer need me, you no longer want me.
You just want sleep.
So I leave you to dream those dreams and I simply blend into the background.
You never notice when I'm gone and hardly at all when I'm there.
It hurts my feeling, or are these feelings yours?
The only difference is you shine bright and I don't shine at all.
You lead I follow.
And even if I wanted to lead I’d always end up falling behind again because I'm just a shadow, and shadows don't get to lead.
Am I your shadow?

Because I don't want to be...

His strong hands gripped me everywhere, he knew my sensitive places.
My eyes shone due to my intense obedience and humiliation.
I started to perspire in an excitable way.
My legs began to shake.
I could feel his affection through his endless kiss.
I felt intimidated.
He loved me.

I can still feel his indomitable hands around me, he knows my vulnerable spots.
My eyes glisten from my potent passiveness and embarrassment.
I break out in nervous sweats.
My legs are trembling.
I can feel his devotion in an infinite smack.
I feel terrorized.
He's attached to me.

So dominant; he is.
Heartless; never leave.
He's kinda vindictive.
Can't forget, do forgive.

Shackled by whims and desires.
The selfless and the selfish, Danse Macabre.
Who holds the key to these manacles?
Is it me?
Or is it you?
You are the spider and I dance through your tangled web of desire.
But your desires cannot be sated by my sacrificial offerings.
Do you desire at all, my dear?
You skitter through the woven webs, devouring the innocents trapped in silken tombs.
I beg of you master, please, show your mercy to your subservient.
Release me so I may release you.
******* is not becoming of you.

1/1/2016

Leaves rustled and hot winds blew
My shirtless chest glistened in the hot sun
While men's strong backs strained against dock and lift

And as I walked to water's edge
Your naked form would rise to greet me
Those haunting eyes, full ******* and wanton hips
Beckoned me, "Come to me Sir.  All that I am is yours"

Yet she was a spirit, a nymph
Not meant for union with mortal men
So as my arms parted cool waters, I heard her cries
"I am so sorry Sir" as she disappeared forever into the depths