Subject of Your Necromancy

​

I am conscious
of another piece of the puzzle.
It's like staring down the muzzle
of a loaded gun.

With your finger trembling on the trigger,
I stand obedient to your command.

You hold my life in your hand,
and I'm never quite certain
you can make me understand
why you do,

but you do,
and without reason I'm committing
mental treason, surrendering
myself to you.

Cover me with your protection.
Move me in your direction. Control me,
then console me with your smile.

I'm a prisoner of your fancy,
willing subject of your necromancy,
yet still I'm mystified
by the tears I cried over you.