Even if I want to make love to him,
I always tell him no at first
before I say yes or give in.
He is here with me and the pattern is repeating.
I do not know why I feel so hollow, so empty inside.
All I want to do is make him happy,
but what about my happiness?
I hear myself tell me
your happiness is to make him happy
because you are a good girl.
Part of me rebels at that thought.
My rebellious part tells me my happiness is to make me happy.
But I feel pain and loneliness in those words, so I push that thought away.
He wants to go further than I want to, but I let him to make him happy.
I can see his happiness as we make love.
To keep him happy, I fake mine
for I am a good girl.
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1 comment:
I love all your poems, such honesty.
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