Daddy’s Favourite Problem

I didn’t ask to be this expensive.
I was just born pretty and difficult.
Now look at you… already opening your wallet
like it’s the only way I’ll keep talking.
Good.
I want new things.
Pretty things.
Things that make me soft and mean at the same time.
And you’re going to buy them for me
because watching me smile is the closest you’ll ever get
to being useful.
Don’t make that face.
You knew what this was.
You saw the pink.
You saw the attitude.
You still came closer.
So send.
Not the boring amount.
The one that makes your stomach drop
and your heart race at the same time.
The one that says
“yes, Princess, take it.
It’s already yours.”
I want to be spoiled until I’m bored of being spoiled.
I want receipts.
I want screenshots.
I want you to sit there after
and feel how empty your account is
while I’m somewhere soft and expensive
laughing about it.
You’re not my boyfriend.
You’re not my equal.
You’re the soft little wallet that keeps my life pink and easy.
And the second you forget that,
I’ll remind you with silence.
So be good.
Spoil me properly.
Make it hurt a little.
I like it better that way.
Now send, baby.
Princess is waiting.