At the start of this dark dream,
I cannot hear anything but my voice.
I cannot see anything except myself.

I’m grasping in the blackness for you,
Pleading with you to speak to me.
Begging you to touch me.

I know you are there,
I can feel your presence.
I can sense you.

But you still don’t speak or reach for me,
I begin to cry and scream.
“Why don’t you want me?”

Finally I feel your grip,
As you tightly wrap your fingers around my throat.
As you viciously restrain my wrists.

I still cannot see you,
Something distorts my vision.
Something dark, thick and heavy.

“Why don’t you want me? Sir,
Tell me what you want.
Tell me what you need.”

“You don’t know how,” your voice is cold,
I cannot fulfill your desires.
I cannot be your charge.

You release me, but it feels as though you never had me,
I stand and await your command.
I do not remove the blinder.

I whimper into the darkness,
You beckon me to find you.
I anxiously set out towards your voice.

I sense your presence closer,
I reach you, knowing it, without touching you.
I fall to my knees at your feet.

“Why don’t you want me?”
The question hangs in the air.
You remove the mask from my eyes.

You sit before me, bathed in the darkness,
My flesh, untouched.
My lips, unkissed.

I search your empty eyes,
You do not see me.
You do not hear me.

You beckon for me again,
But I’m right before you.
If you’d just reach out, you’d feel me.

“Why don’t you want me?”
Your eyes pierce my soul.
Your tears sting as if they were my own.

“Please, Sir. You’re hurting me…”
Your gaze finally finds mine.
You finally heard me.

“I cannot truly hurt you,
That’s the draw, pumpkin.
You’ll have to hurt yourself.”

I actually would hurt myself for you,
I would do it everyday.
Because you can’t hurt me.

Because I need to be hurt.

Because you need me to be hurt.

Because you actually DO hurt me.

Constantly.

“Why don’t you want me?”

And then I awake,
My heart in my throat.
My nails digging into my palms.

Hurting myself.

For you.

The sadist in my dreams.