Control

How do you think I make me feel?

When I throw myself at you like warm spaghetti clinging?
Only to slide down your wall of disapproval.

You think I don't know that there aren't enough plugs to fill the hole in my heart?
You think I can't feel that your kiss doesn't moisten a child's dry swollen eyes
or lips cracked while trying to get scream for her parent's attention?

Do you think I'm not reminded in every hug
that I can count on one hand every moment I've ever felt truly loved.

I slit my wrists and judge you for not knowing how to sew with no needles.
I jump off ledges knowing that the impact will probably kill us both.
I let you see me smile, laugh and dance like the Goddess invented percussion to the tune of my thighs

Knowing you won't be able to resist me.

I LET you objectify me
I LET you make me question my beliefs
I LET you make me
Over and over and over again
I LET you make me

Hoping that one day you won't rise to the occasion
and maybe, just maybe, I'll feel strong enough to walk away