Broken For You

I'm your broken marionette with tangled strings. Did I not dance like you wanted me to? Does my feminine form no longer please you? What once brought that enchanting smile to your face is now taken for granted. My efforts go unnoticed - or are they just unwanted? Didn't you used to say that you wanted me to be happy? That if I were happy, you were too? So how did this become all about your needs?

"Don't go!" I plead. "I'll change for you." I'll bleed for you. I'll die for you. "I'll do that thing you always wanted." It troubles me. It frightens me. My heart contorts inside my chest and yet I move closer to the flame. For you. "Please play with me again." I cling to you. I beg of you. My heart flutters, my breath stutters. "I'll go even further. I'll go all the way." Your smile is the only place I know true peace. Please smile for me again?

As you push me onto the bed, I shudder. My pain for your pleasure. A worthy trade. A good decision. Right? But I see no light in the puppet-master's eyes. As you unwrap me, you still look cold. Why aren't you happy? Can't you see I'm sacrificing for you? Can't you see I'm suffering for you? My legs are spread for you. I'll give you all you ask for. Take it. Take me.

There is no gentleness. There is no warmth. What's the rush? "Oww," I say - but there is no response. Not verbally. Not physically. You keep pushing and I keep clenching. I want to relax but I can't. It hurts too much. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm too unloved. As you split me asunder, I shriek. But my own words betray me. "Do you feel good?" I ask, as the blood runs down my thighs. "That's all that matters." But is it really? Somehow, the words don't sound right, even to me.

You thrust into me so deeply. You thrust into me so roughly. Your hands, they grope me. Your teeth, they graze me. I feel so small underneath your weight. So vulnerable and frail. Like you could break me. I think you will break me. I know you will break me. I want it to be over, but I also want it to last forever. Just to have you near me. Just so you don't discard me. Please do not discard me. My lover and my monster.

Does it feel good? A little, I guess. If I focus only on the physical sensation of your muscles moving under your skin, of your scent all around me, of the sounds your voice makes when you utter words that mean nothing to you at all. It almost feels good. Almost. If I pretend that you still truly care for me, then yes, I can enjoy this too.

Am I useful now? Am I worthy now? Do I have value to you this way? Oh, how I wish to be meaningful to you. How I wish this was meaningful. You and me - connected. But are we, really? Why do you feel so distant? Why do I feel so hollow?

Do you love me? Did you ever? I'm too afraid to ask. Afraid of upsetting you. But also of the truth.

Finally, your seed erupts within me - spews out of you, deep into me. In a brief moment of euphoria, your expression is peaceful, and your grip on me is tender. I do my best to relish it, for I know that it is a fleeting moment. That it was never meant to last. My pleasure is forgotten. Indeed - it was never even given a thought. I knew that. Knew that before I even agreed.

You lift yourself off of me. In silence, you begin to get dressed. I lay there - with blood and semen on the inside of my thighs - frozen stiff. Like a lifeless corpse. Lifeless. Not enough. Never enough. But it is over, and I am relieved. Relieved, but also saddened. Why? Because now you'll leave. I always knew you'd leave.

And yet again my words betray me. "Thank you," I say as I wipe the tears away. And you smile! I made you smile! Only, it's not a smile I recognize. There's something sinister about it. Something dark. Something that makes my stomach twist and turn. But you smile. So that made it all worth it! Right?