For Jacki

When my mother found your collar in my suitcase,
I told her it was for fashion. She knows I'm a basket case
So it didn't matter when I strapped myself to bed at night
And moaned in the bathtub to give my cousins a fright.

Yes, darling, I'm a rebel, I swear. This is all
To please you, mistress, when I stop and call
For help like the helpless kitty I am,
That's what makes it fun, after all: that it's all a sham.

It's what I was supposed to do, but never got round to:
Mucking about, fucking clouts, stabbing nirvana, sharing flues.
You were so large you could inhale me, and I could curr
You round my tongue like your finger with a purr.

We were not edgy, my sweetness: we were vanilla as sin.
I just wanted to find someone who would even begin
To find me attractive. And I'm glad you did.
That's why I'm going easy. That's why I got rid

Of you. I don't believe you, my domme. I believe no-one
Who thinks I am a pretty kitty. I didn't run
Away because I hated you: that came too late.
I left because you infected my mind with second-rate

Hypnotic pseudo-philosophic bullshit. A real girl
You're not yet, don't forget it. You curled
Around our friendship with your masculine arms
And made me invent a real girl to ease all the qualms

I had about taming someone who I didn't even love.
I didn't appreciate you treating me like someone from above
Your abyss falling in slow motion. I was, and I did,
But I didn't need you to say that. Fact is: we're just kids.

I miss Jacki and her curves and her cake icing pink hair.
But as for you, you cunt, frankly, at this point I don't care.