spikes and chains
i enjoy the pain
frilly lace
and satin space

you’ve got quite a pretty face
especially when it twists into a scowl
when you put me in my place

I put in my time and I paid the price,
I gained the honour to be your personal sacrifice.
I traded my last breath for your new beginning,
it wasn’t the alter I envisioned, but I still consider this winning.

I swear every single word up and down,
it was voluntary; you didn’t need to trap me.
You know I’d crush my structure to resist your frown,
and I’ll give anything to know I played a roll in making you happy.

I spoke the oath now do the deed,
to help your growth you know I’d bleed.
I swapped my last day for the first in your new life,
I apologize for bleeding while suggesting a better way for you to hold the knife.

I demolished my own walls for you to see open doors,
I’ll remain motionless, no need to strap me.
I always promised you that I’d gladly give my life for yours,
it would be worth it knowing I played a part in making you happy.

I reject my last rights and deny my last meal,
I ponder an anaesthetic but choose instead to feel.  
And if you were to offer me a chance to leave and run,
I’d suggest the most dangerous game but I don’t have a gun.

Some would call me a down right fool,
and supportive well wishers would tell me I hold more worth than this.
But to assist in your desired creation; I’d be canvas, supply or tool,
to be responsible for that smile is the only thing that’s priceless.

After it all I’m reduced to dust and bone,
you’ll keep going on and I’m now put to rest.
But you know deep down you’re never alone,
you’ll still carry my heartbeat within your chest.

Your words create vivid imagery
Making the prelude of a conscious mind
Pensive in doubt traveling a circular journey
But, the poem is just an autobiography
Of how I am so lonely
In front of my inner child

imagine black satin and lace
imagine slowing the pace
and taking your time

imagine feeling her curves

imagine stealing her nerve

Perhaps it was that champagne five-o’clock light slanting through our glass walls,
golden-warm like honey we licked straight from hive

Yes, perhaps it was those low, sun-softened shadows,
that silky honey-light dribbling lazily through our window
glazing my corneas  
blurring my vision
and the lines I drew between us

Our honey-dipped conversation flowed smoothly,
the summer bleached hairs on the back of my neck swayed in tandem to our words
and your fingers
as they worked loose the knots in the sinew
cocooning my spine

Perhaps that is why those words –
so viscous in the twelve o’clock light
that they almost choke me
as I try to regurgitate them –
flowed up my windpipe
Smoothly
as warm honey drips
from the edge of a
butterknife

Or

Perhaps it was the rosé
painted across your cheeks
like sincerity
Or the way those crushed velvet fingertips
painted my cheeks to match yours
and pressed my eyelids
shut

Do not blame me
for the honey pooling at the corners of my lips
for the wine stains on my cheeks

Do not forget it was you
who fed me honey
who intoxicated me with colours of the eight o’clock sunset
who wrapped me in velvet
who bid the sun linger awhile longer
in my sky

Do not forget
the words I said
were words you gave me
Do not blame me
when they spill from the edges of my mouth

my afflictions are like black satin
wrapped and *******
all over my body
to where i'm unable to move.

it's uncomfortable, yes,
yet makes me feel somewhat
luxurious.