Wednesday, June 8, 2011

horror stories for twisted hearts. bedtimes stories of my youth.

i cannot say who this is about. no. most of you will guess, and most will get it wrong.

but you were beautiful. you were, once. back when i was younger, when i was only a child who didn't really know for sure. no, not really. back when there was no "God" up in heaven because YOU were God. to me. you were everything. the sun rose with your haunted limbs and fell back down as you threw yourself into an oblivion. life was a breath of air fueled by the oxygen you supplied as you coasted along through the halls and led us like sheep through our adventures to nowhere. journeys with no meaning. the best kind. sometimes it's more fun to not have any goals in mind. sometimes, it's better to just be.

but sometimes,
it's better, it was, to carve swords from splintered woods and beat me down for all my sins of never being a free bird, for always clinging to your shadow in spite of all the barbed wire and high voltage circuits that it cast upon me. sometimes, you were a demon, a devil, and i was all too happy to worship you as if you'd never changed from what you were just moments ago. i was all too happy to bask in the warm glow of your burning rage, the fire flowing through your veins, the chaos that carried on.

you see, i didn't know any better, i would say. we know that isn't true, but our fabricated hopes were all we had. all we could claim.
when the truth is, i loved you. i loved you, so, to a point of obsession. sometimes, i wondered if you knew that. or if you ever realized it afterwards.

for all the times i gave into your selfish desires and never whispered a word of disobedience, i wonder if you ever caught on. or if that's why you did it in the first place. if you knew from the start that i was your puppet, there to be manipulated if ever it was your will. there to be punished. there to be ruined.

but you loved me, i know. and it tormented you, late at night. you would curse yourself for doing what you did to me. yet, in the morning, bring the sunrise once again. and you fell into your usual tricks, your habitual traps. and i played your games because it was all i could do. i didn't know how else to show you, didn't know how else i could prove my flawless, yet wretched, loyalty.

and i never spoke a word.

never. though so many times, in the quiet moments where you hovered over my delicate, feeble form, as you feasted on my raw, timid flesh. it was in those moments i always fought my desperation, my deepest desire to whisper "i love you."


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