You are musician:
Beating on your drum,
Forcing your way to the center;
But you do not use conventional instruments--
Your drum is not a drum,
But a woman.
You beat your music into her
Leaving only bruises and broken bones and insecurities--
And you.
You gain her trust before you begin your music,
And by that time her heart taps out the beat,
Shaping her own music to yours.
She may try to fight the conformity,
But your drums are so loud she can't drown it out,
And your music is constant--
You beat your drum until she can't take it anymore,
Until she is lying on the floor,
Broken,
Shattered,
Destroyed.