Patro, patrino.

Mother: the little father --


in Esperanto.

Look at me,
Full of frills.
My milk skin
Gives you thrills.

Spinning around,
I show my treasure.
I know quite little,
But you,
Know better.

I obey and play,
On the bed I lay.
In your arms I sway,

On the shelf,
I stay.

I think you want
To be hurt by me
As most often do

some people have with dominance
possession  power and control
looks like a rather desperate reaction
to the widely known
     but mostly unacknowledged fact
that we are unable to control our lives
and live them as we have imagined

it’s confusing to me
and maybe this is where
the grooming,
psychological abusing
comes from.
i’m used and discarded,
tossed into the recycling bin
until i’m reused again.
and again.
every time making me
a little weaker
than the time before.
a little less able to refuse.
a little easier to bend,
to break.
the lack of permanency
in the place i long for,
the place in which
i never got to stay for long,
only to be hauled away and
returned upon further notice.

my simple response
“no.”
simply two letters
to your beck and call
is all it took
to immediately
come running back
to you.

succumb to your desires,
your Lilith.
succumb to me,
and all my little games.
release your inner darkness
and dance around our paradise
with lack of accountability
or morality.
surrender to lust,
crawl to me, you’re at my use.
my leisure.
now fix your smeared lipstick,
so i can ruin you again.
you are my favorite game,
and we’re just getting started.