Category: poetry

Dress me

mirror, mirror by aimeelikestotakepics via DeviantArt.com
mirror, mirror by aimeelikestotakepics via DeviantArt.com

As I stand and watch myself in the filmy dressing room mirror, I try to gauge your reaction. You often study me, and always appreciate me, but in this moment of contemplation, I feel like a work of art.

It isn’t the clothes you are choosing, it is the way they accentuate the curve of my hip and the line of my leg.

It isn’t the fabric you are concerned with, but the way it falls over my breasts and where it skims across my thigh.

It isn’t the color you are judging, but the way it compliments my soft creamy skin and the unusual hue of my green eyes.

When your fingers skim and shift, causing my heart to flutter and my core awakens, your eyes tell me that, yes, you are objectifying me. But because I long for it. Because I crave to be your possession. Because I’m just a little girl seeking approval.

So, when I ask you, shall I wear my hair curly or straight? Do you prefer the hoop earrings over the simple gems? Or, which stockings and shoes you like best?

It isn’t because I can’t decide.

I can, and I would.

But you’re here, Daddy, and you want me. So tell me how to make myself just as you desire.

Choose for me.

Decide for you.

Dress me.

The reward is absolutely worth your attention.

For the pleasure of seeing me shine under the spotlight of your love is surely artistry of it’s own.

Ten Feet Tall

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Dream Bear by Raymaker via DeviantArt.com

I’ve seen you
Felt you
Tasted you.

I know how
Strong
You are.

I know how
Wild
You can be.

I know you’re
Big
Thick and furry.

Like a gentle
Grizzly
Towering over me.

You can deny it,
If you want.
But I know Daddy.

I know you’re
Really
Ten Feet Tall.

And I’m not
Scared
Of you, Big Bear.

I can
Take
You.

I will
Tame
You!

Adrift

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Sunrise... by zootnik via DeviantArt.com

Floating
Upon the breath
You gave me.
I beg the moon
To ask the sun…
Please
Give me this
New day.
The clock behind me
Sped too quickly,
Time before me
Ticking away
So, so slowly.
Let me drift
On the ocean
Of desire
Between us.
Let its waves
Lift me
To the peak
Of your avidity,
Before plummeting
Into the depths
Of my own voracity.
Let it lap away
At my insecurity
Until I swim
Freely in its
Decadence.
Let it destroy
The anchors
Of our inhibitions.
And allow me
To submit
To this journey.
Set me
Adrift
Toward the shores
Of your choosing.
Soon enough
This ocean
Won’t seem
So unending.
For now
I am floating
Upon the edge
Of the sunrise.
Waiting
For it to carry
You
Back to me.

My Ascent

Ascent by ntscha via DeviantArt.com
Ascent by ntscha via DeviantArt.com

“Can you see?”
“No. I am still lost.”
“Lost where, little girl?”
“In the depth of the ascent.”
“Ah, so you are rising. You found your fin…”
“I don’t know. I wonder if I am simply drowning in my destruction.”
“Don’t you see? You already have!”
“What do you mean?”
“You have drowned… in the depths of your feelings. But you just said it yourself. You are in the ascent. You shed your clumsy legs and formed a lovely tail to assist you in the rise.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“The woman you were is gone, but you are now something new, something perhaps better. You are being born from the destruction that was.”
“Better…”
“Yes, child. Stronger yet softer. Quicker yet more vigilant. Accessible yet careful… Full of care… for yourself.”
“Oh… I do think I love myself.”
“It seems so. Look at me. Who do you see?”
“Noone. Everyone.”
“Yes! The world is your ocean, everyone it can either swim with you, drag you back down, or help guide you up for air.”
“Is this a revelation?”
“Do you still feel lost?”
“Yes…”
“Then you still have work to do, little one. Keep swimming, keep searching.”
“I thought he had the answers, but there were only more questions. And they weighed me down.”
“I’ve told you, the answers are within you.”
“Will my faith return?”
“That is up to you. To your heart. And who you choose to anchor it to. ”
“You never mention them.”
“Should I? Is your family truly part of these questions?”
“No. They are the constant. There are no questions there.”
“Exactly, sweet girl. They are waiting, in a boat, on the surface.”
“Oh… They are the goal? They are my end?”
“There is no end. Life is nothing but a plethora of new beginnings. A journey filled with lessons and adventures. You know this… you learn this constantly. You may shed your tail tomorrow and grow wings! You may transform a dozen times before you reach the goal.”
“But they are the goal.”
“No.”
“Am I the goal?”
“Finally! Yes… It is your journey, after all.”
“My journey… My ascent…”

Oh Wolf…

Goodbye my Wolf Waiting for little red by Yair Leibovich via DeviantArt.com
Waiting for little red by Yair Leibovich via DeviantArt.com

Oh, you wicked Wolf.

Hiding, pretending not to watch. I feel your eyes upon me. I sense you in each of my steps.
Leave me be, you big, bad dog. Let me walk in peace.

 

Oh, you silly Wolf.

I hear your heavy pant. It steals my oxygen with every single breath.
Let me go, my monster. Let me walk in peace.

 

Oh, you sad, lost Wolf.

Keening in the darkness. Licking your stinging wounds. Hoping to end this long, failed test.
Stay gone, you sweet, broken thing. Let me walk in peace.

 

Oh, you old Great Wolf.

Stranded, alone in this wilderness. Aching for the comfort that love’s kept.
Follow from the distance, if you must. But, let me walk in peace.

 

Oh, you tortured Wolf.

Chained to the edge of the wood. Trapped, forever, in the story you told best.
I must walk in the light now, my friend. Please… Let me walk in peace.

 

When darkness falls…

The gaping openness of the night is too much… often more than I can bear. Every thought spins like a saw blade inside my skull. Each wish pummels me with its impossibility. Each memory coats me in a thick layer of melancholy.

My heart lurches, doing it’s best to beat back the hollow emptiness. But it only echoes my despair, calling the nightmare to mimic all of my fears, in perfect, little horror movies that play behind my eyes.

I push myself constantly. If I were just a little better, a little more, a little extra… maybe I’d be enough. Enough to wash away the malaise.

But every high is followed by an aching low. Each wondrous moment where I believe in myself, in love, in family, in my world… Each one is drowned by an equal moment of doubt, longing, and sadness.

In the night, when I am the most alone… desperate for sleep but fearful of what awaits me there… fighting those wicked demons alone… I hope for things no one should hope for.

I wish for the impossible, but know I’ll never see it. I beg my dreams to cooperate, and let me just be content.

But the darkness has it’s own agenda. And it is often monstrous in its efforts to defeat me.

But then… the sun rises on a new day. The blackness lifts as the light fills me to the brim with hope and recovered will.

I know the world doesn’t really harbor secret messages that are just for me, that those are childish thoughts, remnants of my little being left all alone for too long…

But the magic in those moments, where I believe things are just for me or that a story indeed had some glimmering hidden meaning meant only for my heart…

That magic is mine alone.

So, tonight, when my beautiful sun sets, my lovely family sleeps, and darkness begins to beat on me again, I will find solace in magic. I will find hope instead of despair, and I will fight back against the night.

By embracing it. I will love it, in order to coax the fear from it…

When darkness falls, I will force that awful monster to see those hidden notes and I will use it’s mocking to make me strong.

Instead of allowing it to convince me of my worthlessness, I will use that magic to convince IT of my pulchritude.

I will be the fire, in the dark.

And if I ever succeed, and stop listening to the voice in my head who is not the real me…

The darkness will never hurt me again. And instead, I will heal it. I will make it brighter.

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