Creation Poem by grace mariner

Before you there was no me.
At least not the me I am now.
I sought the worst of your kind
to satisfy my singular need for degradation.
Physical and emotional torment with
a bevy of jesters dancing on strings.
And I, their masochistic puppet master.
In them, I could calm that tempest that raged,
that undisciplined wild feral within.
I controlled their movement, their desire
while tearing at my own flesh and descending
in my own despair.
But you my lovely giant, you restrained that beast,
making it look within at all of its untold beauty,
its treasure, its worth.
It takes a raging fire to burn away such
deadly desires and reveal the beauty till
then unseen.
I never thanked you for creating this me
but our fortune is yet to come