Mistress.

I can only be taken out after the party is over.

When everyone is gone,

And the prying eyes have retreated for the day.

When only those remain,

the ones who are privy to the secret.

Secret.

I am the secret.

Hidden away in the day.

As invisible as the good servant

—or the faithful elf.

Toiling away in anonymity,

inside these rented walls,

wondering if anything about my life isn't rented at all.

Until night falls,

and no one is looking in our direction anymore,

and I know I matter for something I truly own.

When we walk among the shadows,

and the masquerade is enough to mask us from the world,

I know I can finally be inside my flesh.

Flesh.

I am flesh.

That's what I am.

It doesn't matter that I build us a life together,

so long as there's a title missing in front of my name,

there's a coffin I must hide my identity in during the day.

Keep my eyes down so no one looks straight into my truth.

Keep my voice down so no one asks questions I can't answer.

Wish the sun away so no one is able to see me any longer.

But the night is my place,

The night is where I'm good.

When no one else can see.

Where I'm as invisible as I feel.

And I can be used for what I'm truly made for.

Because the pretty house,

the clean closets and the packed lunches,

those are fantasies that aren't really mine to have.

But the night is mine.

Red lips, black lace and promises of salvation between my legs.

So you can forget.

*We can forget.*

Inside the darkness, you can pull my hair, throw me down and walk all over me.

So you can forget.

We can forget.

Break the string around my neck like it's a promise you made, and let it fall on the floor like I did to be with you; let the patter of pearls serenade us so we can't hear the world scream outside while you choke me out.

So you can forget.

We can forget.

Punch my lights out and fuck me till I have a good reason to cry.

So you can forget.

We can forget.

That this life we have together is rented,

— and tomorrow, we may have to give it back.