This life I did not choose

I await your return home.
Sitting by the door.
"Come home." I think to myself.
But why?
Why do I yearn for your return?
Even when you strike my more times in the day?
Is it love?
Is that why I yearn for you?
Is that why I desire you so passionate warm touch?
LOVE?
Please answer me.
"Master"

When you return we make sensual love.
The love we make when you feel bad.
You press inside me ever so gently.
Then you slowly get rough with me.
Pulling my hair
And gripping my chest ever so roughly.
Your hands harm me,
But its nothing new.
I am here to please you
And if this is what pleases you
Then please harm me.

If it makes you happy,
Then fill me with pain.
Your hugeness presses harmfully
Inside my body.
I like this pain.
It’s a good feeling pain.
My vision becomes blurry from this pain,
But I like it.
And I know you like it too.

You leave me with bruises
And cuts.
Blood runs down me.
My blood.
Its awkward to see it.
You caused it to show, but I still love you?
I love you.
I did not choose this life,
But I’m happy it’s with you…
“Master”