It is the darkness which will always
invitingly remain.
It mimics your footfalls and bleeds your
secret name.
It will linger behind you as a reminder,
intricately restrained.
It shudders and sighs, your beautifully
relentless thing.
It moves with all of your gestures on
molten strings.
It is your gray side, a curse, a hidden
broken wing.
It can drown without water and burn
without fire.
It is your truth, your mimic, and your
wanton sapphire.
It will chase you, delicately led on your
invisible wire.
It is your nothing, your toy, a flicker, a
delicious sigh.
It exists for your pleasure, amusing,
remarkably sly.
It will beg, plead, and whimper, yours to
savagely deny.
I love when Daddy treats me as his It. I have the capacity to fully immerse and forget my identity, becoming only a construct of his desires. The hard part is bringing me back, reminding me of my humanity, and making me remember that I have to be a person too. Somedays I want nothing more than to remain It forever, but thankfully he understands the balance that is required.
