You use me in your unassuming paradoxical way.
Stretching my sinewy limbs until they snap
Then look heartbroken into my eyes and I claim the fault as mine and deem it unfixable leaving me to smash my fingers in futile attempt to make up for the wrong doing. I am fault and faultless.
Both virgin and whore.
I have nothing and you take from me
Scraping my dry wombed self as if it was an ocean to sink and swim and steal from.
Hording secrets of my self away til I don't know what I am.
And yet, I stay.
I stay and let you use
For what am I if not to take from?
What use is all the beautiful things in me if not to give them away?
So I lay prone under you and let your greedy hands skim and flutter over my not yet dead skin.
Prying open my chest to sift through my organs to pick and salvage what you will
out of the heart of me.
Telling me to throw away what you call worthless, til I am perfect to you
Or I would of thought after all the care you took shaping me
but somehow . . . still not good enough.
Trying to better change into what you want me to be,
Some golden monolith in the back of your mind.
If only I knew what it was,
If only you would tell me.
Please just tell me.