Make me yours, the way only you can. I dare you, I beg you.
Make me feel your fire. Set me ablaze and sit back to watch me squirm.
Make me plead for mercy. Tease me until you can no longer resist.
Make me hope for the end and continuation, simultaneously.
Make me fear that you may never tire of the torture that I beg you for.
Make me yours.
Completely.
Make me obey.
Make me submit.
Make me surrender.
Make me.
I am bleak?
I fight against that with everything in my being!
Because bleak may as well be blank, and I am not blank!
I am far, far from blank.
I am Bright.
I am Sweet.
I am Magical.
I am Messy.
I am Sparkly.
I am Precious.
I am Beautiful.
Like a rainbow. Or a sunset. Or the stars over the ocean. Or fireflies against the complete blackness of night.
You would say I am all of those things.
You don’t think I’m bleak or blank.
You make me see that I am extraordinary.
Maybe I was bleak. Maybe I was blank.
But you gave me the markers.
To make myself pretty.
To color my amazing world.
To write my own description.
To draw my love and fantasy.
I am not bleak. That is wrong.
I am not blank. That is silly.
I know without a doubt…
Because…
I am
Yours.
I am.
MelDouleur.com 