If I simply knelt at your feet, humble, quiescent?
No fanfare, no fight, no brat, no personality
Just me.

Not whole, not broken,
not any of those things which seek to beguile.
Just passive.
Just simple.
No bullshit.
Just me.

“You’d be bored if I just gave in” I say, waiting, gauging.
But I already know your response.
So I fight, I brat, my personality comes to the fore.
What starts as a dance becomes a game, becomes a fight,
and ultimately becomes frustration.
And within that I’m suddenly lost.

No direction, adrift, no anchor to cling to.
A submissive left to her own devices
to self destruct.

<pause>
Self destruct.
Such a romantic notion of angst and maelstrom.
Wild and untamed.
</pause>

Battered, bruised, the reality is far less enchanting.
I’m tired,
I cannot always fight,
I cannot always be what it is I think you wish me to be.

I need
your
direction
to be my anchor in the storm.

Paradox.
I will always fight, I will always brat, I will always have my personality to hand to keep you entertained.
But I don’t want it
to be my driving force,
I don’t want it to always be me.

Sometimes I simply *wish/need
*delete as applicable

to be.

So I ask again.

Would you be bored, Sir…
If I simply knelt at your feet, humble, quiescent.
No fanfare, no fight, no brat, no personality
Just me?