You ever hear of a person being a gold paving? A glitter ball in himself; spinning life unto those around?
Here, I am. The wheel turning along the gold paving. An addict to the flakes of glitter of this person.
Him. My direction, my anchor, my single belief.
‘Insanity’, you conclude. Too fast to judge, aren’t we?
But it is my tale. The secret I learned to weave into something beautiful. All I’ve accepted to deserve.
Bosom out, hands on my hips; I was a preacher. ‘No man shall take me for granted’, my favourite verse.
I sang songs of independence and self-sufficiency. The lyrics of which; slowly dissolved away from memory.
Just like a shadow in a mist, I could try to grab at that woman. I will not try, however. My reward simply the screeching of the weakling I have become.
I chuckle at the memories. Oh, boy, was I young. Oozing of pride and false expectations; no one made the cut.
Till, you did. No story to it; you simply arrived. Voices screamed for me to run. Yet I stayed.
Just like in a sand storm; I was blinded. The pride; the enormous ego wiped off; swept off by the storm that you are.
I stood naked. Nothing to hold onto. I was yours.
Afraid of life without you by my side to be my shield or my captor; the difference nothing but a masked similarity,
You reminded me that I was a used cardboard; dirty and old. Not good enough. I eagerly believed you.
The whispers of your numerous trysts remained whispers. The late night violence, nothing but tough love. I chose you.
Slowly drifting away from my body; a stranger I became to my own self. All I needed to focus on is you; in you I saw a chance to right things in this world.
Mistake me not for a revolutionary. I simply see a possibility to make you a decent man.
I know if I tried hard enough, you would see how much you desire for my presence. Maybe you would need me.
The extra miles, I shall go. Make my body your temple. Knight you to lead; I to serve. I will be all I thought I could never be. All you wanted me to be.
What we have; a meadow. Over grown and littered with a few carcasses but a meadow, all the same. I wake up each morning, vowing to make it beautiful, again.
On the good days, I feel like we own something excitingly secretive. Something we can call our own. Something the happy will never grasp.
I am called pathetic. The whisperers declaring me, spineless. I call it love. Maybe, destiny. Whatever the case; I understand our rules. You the master; I the slave. Definitely, love.
I know you feel the same way. Pretense to want more, foolproof to me. You would be miserable without me.
I am your familiar canvas, your very own human being.
I remain a woman. Strong and beautiful, to some. This, I own; wearing it as a badge. Hiding what society condemns behind a tight smile; all will be well.
Away from the eyes of the world; I am a wave. Tossed and blown.
I choose to live this way for the sake, of your offspring. Everyone claims I choose to stay for myself. The truth will never be unraveled.
More in need of you, than of myself. Intent to gauge my worth based on what you say; no one can ever understand this puzzle that we are.
Look at me though. I vow to keep your words as my sacred truth. Your needs will be my reason for living. You will be the man; the voice; my choice for as long as you want me. I will take pride in being yours.
I am your woman.