TorturedJester
12-25-2003, 07:16 AM
Nightmares of Helen resurfaced like a swollen corpse floating to a bank of land. She shared my insecurities ever since Priscilla left me, as well as my fears.
To the rest of the planet I was just another blank face colliding with other blank faces out of necessity. Nowhere did I standout among the masses. To Helen I was unique. What others saw as plain features, Helen saw as angelic radiance. And she never failed to tell me; at least when she was sober.
I recall how she would rub my shoulders and call me her big teddy bear. And though I loved her too, it was lust, drugs and fear that kept us together. Fear for what she would do if I left her.
I had to be her savior, although as cruel irony would have it, she wasn’t even safe in my clutches. Yet father figure was the role suited for me ever since my father left me to tend to my siblings. I imagine it was growing-up without a father that contributed to the person I was to become.
As the only male in the household, I had to be the one to pick-up my sisters whenever they fell from grace. Not only was I the father-figure but a role model for two younger sisters who alternated distress in cycles.Whether it was Lisa hanging-out with the wrong crowd or Paula getting pushed around by an abusive boyfriend I had to keep them on the straight and narrow. I was also the support system for a lonely, bitter mother who never returned the love to me. I guess after being there for the family all those years, I grew into the part;A perfect casting for others broken spirits.
But now I found myself alone. At least I had Sylvia’s invaluable friendship, but she wasn’t going to wait for me to come around forever and without her support I would have wept through every day.
Just the thought of knowing her warm, sexy, body lay waiting behind my bedroom wall was enough to put me asleep with a smile and content sigh. Some nights I’d even curl into my blankets and caress the texture of the sheet-rock, as if its paint was the smooth flesh of Sylvias' hips.
I wanted to be in her bed so badly I cried-out with my mind for her to hear me, feel me. For a change, to save the savior. But she couldn’t hear me and consequently I’d drift to sleep, coiled inside my blankets like a child that cries himself to sleep in self-pity.
Those particular nights I fell asleep troubled, were the worst hours of the clock. In the dark,I was forced to encounter the blue maiden with bulging eyes, trying to embrace me. To gain heat from me." What’s wrong don’t you love me anymore?" She’d plead with me as I cried inside my dream.
Maybe her own soul had slipped through my fingers as I clutched with heightened delight, and now she was haunting me from within like a virus to my very thoughts. Those nights I’d sit-up in bed shaking, flash on the lights, and beat my head into my knees. Helen was never going to let me rest for accidentally killing her
To the rest of the planet I was just another blank face colliding with other blank faces out of necessity. Nowhere did I standout among the masses. To Helen I was unique. What others saw as plain features, Helen saw as angelic radiance. And she never failed to tell me; at least when she was sober.
I recall how she would rub my shoulders and call me her big teddy bear. And though I loved her too, it was lust, drugs and fear that kept us together. Fear for what she would do if I left her.
I had to be her savior, although as cruel irony would have it, she wasn’t even safe in my clutches. Yet father figure was the role suited for me ever since my father left me to tend to my siblings. I imagine it was growing-up without a father that contributed to the person I was to become.
As the only male in the household, I had to be the one to pick-up my sisters whenever they fell from grace. Not only was I the father-figure but a role model for two younger sisters who alternated distress in cycles.Whether it was Lisa hanging-out with the wrong crowd or Paula getting pushed around by an abusive boyfriend I had to keep them on the straight and narrow. I was also the support system for a lonely, bitter mother who never returned the love to me. I guess after being there for the family all those years, I grew into the part;A perfect casting for others broken spirits.
But now I found myself alone. At least I had Sylvia’s invaluable friendship, but she wasn’t going to wait for me to come around forever and without her support I would have wept through every day.
Just the thought of knowing her warm, sexy, body lay waiting behind my bedroom wall was enough to put me asleep with a smile and content sigh. Some nights I’d even curl into my blankets and caress the texture of the sheet-rock, as if its paint was the smooth flesh of Sylvias' hips.
I wanted to be in her bed so badly I cried-out with my mind for her to hear me, feel me. For a change, to save the savior. But she couldn’t hear me and consequently I’d drift to sleep, coiled inside my blankets like a child that cries himself to sleep in self-pity.
Those particular nights I fell asleep troubled, were the worst hours of the clock. In the dark,I was forced to encounter the blue maiden with bulging eyes, trying to embrace me. To gain heat from me." What’s wrong don’t you love me anymore?" She’d plead with me as I cried inside my dream.
Maybe her own soul had slipped through my fingers as I clutched with heightened delight, and now she was haunting me from within like a virus to my very thoughts. Those nights I’d sit-up in bed shaking, flash on the lights, and beat my head into my knees. Helen was never going to let me rest for accidentally killing her