What things I must do to incur his wrath
What distances he slings me to see if I’m attached
And then he sticks around to see what wounds are hatched
He collects the pools of blood and in he takes a bath

What deeds have I done to make him pull the leather
I take a step back but still he shows his antler
I told him I was sick but that I’m seeing clearer weather
I told him I was sorry and I made it all in error

How costly are my ways when I feel him pushing me
Then he takes an arrow and he shoots me in my knee
Then he takes a word and will kiss it where it bleeds
He drops a bag of coins like Judas on the spree

I can never tell if he is being nice or sinister
Still I confess to him like he is my minister
And I don’t know why he wants me feeling this insecure
Or why he is the one guy who makes me feel so miniature

What sorrows come down when I do misbehave
I always act a child when I haven’t had my way
But he knows exactly what it is that I crave
And every button pushed makes me more of his slave

I guess my sins were plenty
For his love for me is empty

© Delia Ross. 2019

Published by PoeEternal

I'm gone. Maybe it's like I never existed at all.

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