For you,
I sometimes deny,
My most basic needs.  

Allowing my throat,
To grow Sahara dry with thirst,
And my stomach,
To churn and burn with hunger.  

Denying the sharp pain,
That cobras up my spine,
And the tension,
That grips my neck like a vise.  

Neglecting my bulging bladder,
And the fact that the room has grown cold.
I struggle against the urge to shiver.  

Remaining still.
Still…and silent.  

I long to scream,
To stretch,
To seek sunlight.
But I do not.

I dare not,
Disturb an atom of the atmosphere.  

I will endure
The thirst, the hunger, the pain, the boredom.  

I will remain a willing captive,
As long as you keep purring,
And lounging in my lap.