I know you’ve been bad
and I know you’re unhappy.
I know that I love you
and I want you badly.
I’m asking the question
I must ask you sadly:
Not sure who you are…
but are you my Daddy?
You look like him, sure,
and the smile’s the same.
But his smiles were toys
and our love was the game.
His insides were broken;
said I’m not to blame…
But I’m frightened that Daddy
will leave out of shame.
Now bathe me in piss
and spank me with lust,
You feed me betrayal
that hardens my thrust,
I am roused by your lies
and I know it’s fucked up…
Daddy
is the only man
that I trust.
But if that’s who you are
and you still want to play,
With sticks and with balls
(and I don’t mean croquet)
I’m frightened that Daddy
will lie when he strays…
And frightened that we can’t survive
in this phase.
How many licks must I take
to be dutiful?
How many pricks must you slake?
It’s inscrutable.
Answer.
Be strict; not inexcusable.
How many dicks will it take
to be beautiful?
I know you don’t know
and I know you’re deserving
of much more respect
but the pain keeps reverting…
Forgive me,
this mess
can be disconcerting.
This is how children behave
when they’re hurting.
Written by Jason Wright
June 26, 2017