| jcenters | ||
| MercynRe |
Means to An End there are times, i feel, he doesn't even see me. knowing this doesn't matter. i am bound to him even without his love. i know the child in him, the id, sees me as, perhaps all i ever will be, a cunt. the rest is just life support and can be ignored. education, thoughts, dreams are nothing to this need for penetration, for ownership for an empty ejaculation of pseudo-love. his constant clumsy attempts to fuck me, regardless of circumstance, are all that he really knows of me. and there are times, i feel, he hates me. i haven't bent to his every whim as he knows i have bent to others. these are the times, i know, he also sees me as a tool. i am a means to an end, someone to stroke his ego, (and his cock), someone to show him the empathy he witholds, (with legs spread wide), it doesn't quite matter who i am. my cunt is the only voice he allows me. there are times, i feel, i don't even see myself. |
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