I am the Problem

I Am the Problem

I raise my voice to women's equality,

shout out the rights for woman's pleasure,

but who I am to say anything,

when I am the problem,

Because when he claims his desires,

I lower my concerns to please him,

its easier then carrying the guilt of not providing,

I tease him with his desired intentions,

knowing he will act upon them,

I am the problem,

He is persistent, but respectful,

Never forceful,

As I am to myself,

I silence my pain and express it as pleasure,

I hide my discomfort for his satisfaction,

I am the problem,

I crumble over if he wants me or the act,

Am I just the person there who can give him that,

but I never speak of my fear,

I just let myself lay here,

I want to say I did it for him,

without admitting I didn't want it,

but instead,

I make jokes, take the kisses, ignore the loneliness,

I Smile at him, and move on,

I am the problem,

I lower my needs,

To please,

Instead of speaking my truth,

Its just easier, even if it hurts,

and I care about his wants,

but the regret that follows is what haunts,

my inner self from feeling whole,

I am the problem from the making of my own,

But as long as I can keep him from knowing,

Then I will find a way to keep going,

Because I don't want to be identified as unamused,

so I let myself lay there to be used,

I do believe in woman pleasure,

As I am one to usually claim it,

but sometimes,

I fail and become the problem within it.