Darkest Days|| Poetry and Prose

His

(This one may have been read before. It's an older one)

Is it strange that he can have me do anything?  Is it strange that I want to, need to?

Is it crazy that I feel strongest when he holds the control in his large strong hands?

Do you think it’s absurd that I feel most powerful when he has the power? 

I suppose I sound downright delusional when I tell you I feel at my tallest when I’m on my knees.

Do you ever think of my submission as anything more? More than obeying. More than being a good little girl. 

Here is a fact for you... 

My submission is everything. 

Every little thing I will give to him is a gift. And I could of kept it all for myself. But I am the strong one. I am the powerful one, for I can give every part of me and still have me. 

I can open my legs and give him my most vulnerable juices. 

I can give him my voice. My sight, my sound and my touch.

So I can give him my everything. Or I can take it away. He cannot be my master without me. But I can always choose to be submissive. Whether he is beside me or not.

I will always crave the way he directs me, teaches me. Shows me. My master. My teacher.

So am I his?

Or does he belong to me?