Damned love poem #1

What is this? Love? Lust? No, it can't be either.

Young love is foolish, brash, and unstable.
Chances are that it is not love but lust.
Chances are that you will not grow old with that person.
Chances are that it will end.

I am young, and very damn well in love.

Yet it is not love.
Nor is it lust.
No, it is something more than either.
It is desire.

The desire to be whole that has brought us this far.

The desire I feel to own,
And the desire that he feels to be owned.

The strength of this bond is one people down play.

It is something they see as nothing more than a game.
It isn't just a joke when I degrade him.
It's not funny when I laugh,
And the pain is oh so good.
It bonds people together with the most real thing possible.

Trust.

The trust that is needed to let someone make you helpless,
Beat you to a pulp,
Whip you 'till you cry,
Flog you into submission.

These acts are so powerful that we are not allowed to speak of them.
They are put down as "fetishes" or something like that.
They are seen as strange, a deviation from the mean.
They have been made taboo, but for no good cause.

Love, in all forms should be celebrated.
This is love, in a potent form.
The binding of two souls so deeply,
Through the roles of Mistress and slave.

But....

Through all it's power it increases that delicate speed,
It is easy to fall into desire, to want to be completed.
It is no less real what two people may feel,
Their happiness intertwined,
Their minds become blind,
But then there was something wrong.

A hard limit passed
A safeword said
A fight started
A trust lost
A love....

Ended.

This strong of love can not be between everyone.
As a young, undeveloped individual, I know this will probably not last.
Logic points that way.
Logic says we are young, stupid, and in lust.

But... It isn't any less meaningful.
Kind of later than most for my first love,
And kind of too early for my last love.
But... It feels the same.

Deep in my heart, I know we should be together.

I've never even seen him:
Just the pictures in the email.
He's not in this country:
Far away with differing languages.
But I own him yet:
He knows it to be, collar proudly about his neck.

Deep in my heart I believe this desire to be whole is real,
Deep in my heart I believe we are in love.

Well, not exactly love,
Not really lust,
But...

The deepest desire to be whole.
The desire to be a slave to ownership
The desire to be free through the chains of slavery
The desire we share to complete one another.

*************
I'm a transgendered, asexual, kinky mistress at the new age of 18. This is my love poem from the depths of my heart to the world and to my lover. He will always be valued in my heart and this will always be my first damned love poem.