Goddess or Slut

Sometimes I wish I could be a wild slut than be your goddess.

Placing me on a pedestal binds me strong. Your look of adoration eats into my heart. How can you expect me to be perfect? I am not a goddess. but a woman, wild and wanton. I have my desires, and just like everyone else, I would like to attain them, means be damned.

But you....... You stop me. With your steadfast belief in my integrity and my sense of fair play. Your eyes are guileless, open and honest, with all your faults bared to me. You place your secrets on my feet, and burden me with your innocence and trust. I am your goddess, you tell me, and add that you, your secrets, your ambitions, your insecurities are safe with me. You add, I will never hurt you. You say, I will take care of you. You say, you trust me of being incapable of doing wrong. You ask favours of me and I give. You ask for help and I provide. Because I am your goddess and your goddess will always take care of you. Your goddess always puts you first, and can never do wrong.

You move away, your eyes still full with that worshipful look. Oh, if only you knew how that look makes me grit my teeth...

What if I told you that there are wicked thoughts in my head at times? What if I told you that I am tired of harbouring your needs and putting them before mine? What if I told you that when I see your secrets, they remind me of my own - pathetic, both. What if I told you that I am sick of helping you, because I would rather help myself first. What if I spilled my guts, your secrets, my sins, your ambitions and shred my robes and ran naked down on the street, dropping my beatific smile? What if I devoured children and bedded strangers in throes of lust?

Would you love me still? Would you worship me still? Would you want to hold me still?

Would you? Would you?