Today I give of a different side of me.
A side hidden under the layers you want to see.
The side of me drowning in a sea of guilt.
Ignoring your life buoys, I struggle in desperation as the tides rise and the storm builds.
This storm is of your make.
Your rules are the death of me. I am the death of me.
I am a victim of my love and your morals.
Come rain, snow or shine, I shall be by my side. Id’s side.
Catering to my needs. Id’s needs.
Id’s house is of ice.
Therein lady comfort caresses and warms my poor heart.
I find Succour in meeting Id’s wants.
Like a warm bath on a cold morn,
Our infantile deeds wash over me
I am a passenger in the vehicle of decadence,
Heart dragging underneath its wheels.
Let angels weep for me.
I will drink of their tears
but I will not stop
In my pursuit of Id’s wants.
She found warmth in ice
Fruit of their love is ruin
Her conscience is mute
Image credit- geralt
This Haibun is in response to Colleen’s weekly Tanka Tuesday poetry challenge
The prompts for this week’s challenge are COLD and SAFE (synonyms only).