My Submission Was His Mission

He only reads my words to look for himself in my stories.

His ego owns him and it desires to make out of me a mockery of the same slavery

He only grazes my pages for validation that his existence is still felt

Between my legs, laced with the irrationality of my emotions he provokes, crackling between the wild fires burning the pastures of my heart until I am ashes reduced to smoke

There is pain behind my fingertips, bleeding from the cut of unrequited love.

I Am his possession… owned.

By Janell Hihi

Copyright@ 2016

 

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