Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Begging for more

It's all a question of rationing
when demand exceeds supply.
So I wait on line, in need of
it all, while rules grant me
this much and no more.
At the door stands the owner.
"Tell me," he says. "Tell me,
why do you want this?
How much do you want it?
What would you do for but
one extra ounce? A pound?
A bushel? Beg me. Crawl
for me. Humiliate yourself.
By law I can grant you
this much and no more.
But crawl for me
or you get nothing at all."
So I crawl and I weep
and I toss away pride.
I give the cruel owner all that I have
and am grateful for the tiny
packet that I carry home
tucked in my bra next to my
bruised and swollen heart.
I take it to my bed and press
the sealed sachet to my nose,
savoring memories,
searching for meaning,
and crying myself to sleep.


And my Master responded:

See? Beautiful. Clean.


This poem continues the series begun here
on Sunday, March 7, 2010 and continued daily since.
There is one more post to go.
Meanwhile, the sadist is eager for your comments.

6 comments:

Paul said...

OG, if the Sadist can drew this kind of beauty from you with words, what will you produce when He starts metaphorically flaying the flesh from your bones.
The ecstasy of agony can produce wonders I'm told.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.

oatmeal girl said...

I have been flying this week, Paul, words bursting from me, having had both his kisses and the attentions of the BEAUTIFUL new flogger he brought here on on Monday. I am unbearably happy and bursting with words.

Anonymous said...

and oh...how we watch.

nbs said...

OG, it is so familiar and odd to read these posts!
Of course i don't know your Sadist but there is some thread that these two men share.
It makes my memory shiver~

oatmeal girl said...

sephani - the last installment is there to be read. His words are there to be read.

nancy - I think there are certain characteristics... it's like myths developing in parallel in different cultures. Or maybe it is merely pathology. But I am not surprised at your flashes of recognition. I hope the sweet memories balance the pain.

Anonymous said...

aye, I read it with my nose pressed to the screen :P I meant my previous comment as in "indeed we do watch!"