Strings

Written by Jacob Ibrag

I’ll be your puppet, relinquishing my will to your needs.

Till there’s nothing left. Till I’m reduced to these strings,

permanently. Because that’s how you see me, right? An

extension of your limbs, contorting to the sound of your

voice. Vocalizing those fingers into my attentive bones.

Nodding my head to the beat of your needs, just tell me

when, I swear I’m listening. Tell me this is what you’ve

been craving. A yes to ever command. A bending knee.

A broken backed being. Your words of endearment slither

into my veins as I assume the little spoon and take in your

embrace. Waking for just a moment, I turn towards those

lips and whisper, ‘I’ve always been yours, even without

these strings.’ You lay dormant, holding onto my hand. I

close my eyes, forever wondering if you’ve heard a thing.

Photographer Unknown