Broken and bruised
yet loved to death
Roses on the table
in a glass vase.
thrown off the table
as I am slammed to the ground
on top of the shards.
he demands me to pick
each and every piece up with my teeth.
I am his.
He isn't mine.
He owns a house on 60 acres
and everyday I am to cut the grass with scissors
You may not understand our lifestyle
but it is the only thing i know
he is my master
The dominant upper hand.
I am the subtle mistress.
choked and beaten
kissed and hugged
so many differences
yet he is perfect in my eyes
