Ode to the Way You Grab my Hair

you make me feel like a slut

the way you make me beg
the way you grab my hair
and tell me to open my mouth for you

it's everything you do
the way you grab me
the way you shove me
against the mattress
the way you tell me
that i have too much clothes on
in that voice
The Voice
that velvety, dangerous voice
that makes me wonder
if i want to stay
or run

i stay
i would fight others for the privilage
to stay

you make me feel dirty
you make me feel
as though the things i say
and think, and want
are filthy
and i should be ashamed

i'm not, you know
i never am and i think
that's what attracts you to me

you make me feel like a slave
using my body as your property
my breath is quickened
when you reach for my face
and take my chin in your hand-
my cunt is wet
by the time you've told me
what you're going to do to it
and the list
seems to always
get longer

you make me feel used
i have cried on your pillows before
and i will again
but i trust you
and i would crawl over glass
to cry on those pillows again

i touch my lips in private
and imagine your lips
when you've tied me to the bedposts
coming closer, closer
daring me
tempting me with proximity
and one
light
butterfly
kiss

you make my head spin
i am your slut
your bitch, your whore
when i am with you
i am everything you want me to be


including

loved