He. . .he says he wants me.
I look at his eyes and see him holding the same look in his eyes.
The disarming power and ferocious needs make me want to go on my knees, wishing to please him in every way possible.
He deserves the world. To me, he can get anything he wants, but not me. Not this impure me.
I am merely a broken doll. Crave for what I can't have, yet I dream of one day.
Maybe one day, I will be lucky after all---can find my father one day, learn to care more about my brother, and find a man to give me what I crave. Will not be so heartless to shatter me beyond by faking it.
But my aching soul wants this man standing right before me with his arms enveloping me, forehead resting on the crown of my head, and hand caressing my naked and cold body.
It feels good. . .me w
