In tenderness do I retreat,
certain of my own undoing.
For forgiveness here would certainly absolve me,
but tear up my insides with guilt.
Crime is not what has been committed,
only the entirety of my heart.
Fearful that I cannot give enough
is the cause of my withdrawal,
closing myself in to my own cage.
Doubt keeps holding me from breaking these chains,
mistrust slices through the bonds
that would bring about my submission.
To feel those whips, those binding straps,
break down my resolve,
allow me to fall into your safe embrace,
tortured by my trust,
blinded by my desire.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017