A variety of inspirations (including someone else’s mis-spelling of the word “wipe”...) led me to this poem:

Come To Me

And let me summon out your fears,
Stroke pain up to the surface
To flow away in tears.

Come to me,
And let me control your breath,
The gasps of your disgrace
That leads to little deaths

Come to me,
And let me be the one,
The face of all you hold in thrall
Who'll clasp you when you're done.

Come to me,
And let me make you raw;
The one whom you can beg,
The one who holds the door.

Come to me,
And let me be the voice
Commanding you to take the pain
Because I am your choice.

So come to me, my dear,
It's better now you did;
The way before is scoured clear
Of all that I forbid.

Unusually, a rhyming one for once...