Every time she gives me that stare,
her gaze cuts through me like winter air,
She looks at me intently with those powerful eyes,
I can feel them, search, question, and scrutinize.
She is something from my wildest dreams,
The kind that are filled with those silent screams,
Brimming with emotion filled heart,
I knew the first time our eyes connected would be the start,
Every moment after that has been filled with power,
Knowing it’s hers, my confidence must cower.
I am a slave to these emotions that fill me,
Unable to free myself from this hidden story.
There is more to this, than meets the eye,
I know she knows, that I cannot lie.
Is all the emotion that I am trying to keep,
leaking from my mind, starting to seep?
Can she feel these thoughts that control,
manipulate my dreams, and create my role?
Is there any hope for a man that has been consumed,
by a reality, that has not even bloomed?
Am I a fool, to think of what’s in store,
or is it just a fantasy, to keep my life from being a bore?
Maybe I am deranged, hopelessly confused,
twisted mind, that has only been abused.
Who knows? Maybe this abuse is what I need,
All of this control, something on which to feed.
It’s pathetic, to be ruled by someone who has only to lift a finger,
and I am theirs, always here to linger.
But pathetic I am, and I love every minute of it,
These words inspired by, everything that has been writ and bit.