Collared

Collared
It’s not love, not the kind you think of
When you see hand holding in movies.
Master, he respects me as I continue to submit,
Continue to bend, for him, with him.
Paddles, whips, belts, clamps..all to remind me
How devious my heart can be when I say
I love you.
Love is pain, it burns through your being,
Destroys who you are meant to be.
I am free of love.
I can truly love,
Love myself
And be
A grateful slave to the man
Who broke me a-way from the lie.