wondering
Beneath you as you like to say.
Then why, my pet, do you tremble
When my hands are having their way?
A "THING" is what you have called me
A void inside for a soul.
Then why do you keep coming back love
For the "THING" that can make you whole.
You hit me and hurt me and curse me
and tell me to leave you alone.
Then why do you come to my bed girl
as if my bed were your home?
You punch and you thrust and you shove me
Away from your love/hate embrace
Then why when I sleep with another
Is pain etched deep on your face?
This game does not go on forever
This play of despair and of pain
So when you turn back here for comfort
You will find that "THINGS" may have changed.
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