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The room was filled with the souvenirs gathered throughout a life of adventure. The bullroarer collected in the Outback lay on the shelf next to the Tumi knife picked up in Cuzco. The Tibetan Thangka hung near the window opposite a Baule mask from the Ivory Coast. The Xianpgi set bartered for in the Pangiayan Market and bone china tea set acquired in Edinburgh graced the top of the Kotatsu table radiating warmth from the corner. Numerous bits and pieces amassed wandering the world vied with one another for attention in the small hospice room dominated by the hospital bed which had only recently dwarfed its fragile occupant.
A man well-traveled had just died here . . . alone. For all his exploits, he had never had the time to make the human connection. Never did he experience the greatest of all adventures. Never did he wait with baited breath for the birth of a child. Never did he work a job he hated to provide for a family he loved more than himself. Never did he return to the loving arms of a woman graying and past her prime. Never did he stand proud at the graduation of a son or the wedding of a daughter. Never did he cry silent in the night not knowing how he would be everything needed by those in his charge. Never did he hear the words “I love you” from one he had given up his dreams for.
The young orderly stood surveying the mess he was packing up for disposal. He searched for a picture, or a letter, or indication of any kind there was someone that would want to know a lost and lonely soul had left this world . . . anyone that would want something here to remember the sad, miserable man that had spent the last days of his life in this forlorn place. The youth closed and taped each box of the now worthless hoard of memories unshared, feeling a sorrow for the adventurer once envied.
The cell phone in his pocket rang. It was his wife. The baby was colicky. His son’s soccer team had lost. The electric bill was past due. She was frustrated and exhausted. She waited for him to respond, but he was only now understanding the treasures of his own adventures. All he could say as he choked back tears was “I love you.”
I have an overwhelming need to write tonight. I sense my monster’s presence, hand sliding over one hip, slowly across my stomach, up between the ribs, finally grasping my heart’s center as he pulls me back into his shady embrace. I struggle to resist the seduction of the sinister thoughts that dance through my mind enticing me, luring me. There’s a whisper, “Just give in.” It would be so easy and there is a strange comfort in familiarity.
His soft words, “I’m all you need. Come, yield. I know you as no other . . . every hurt, every sadness, every moment of doubt.” He is always there, watching, listening, waiting. He knows all of my secrets. He knows the ugly, the pathetic, the arrogant, the vain, the selfish, the evil of me. To feel him hard inside me, pounding me to submission, a perverted desire that smolders in the wilderness of my wounded heart. Pain as pleasure, pleasure as pain, his offering.
This wicked wayfarer blows through my life. As clouds obscuring the sun . . . his, the shadow on the radiance of my soul. His gloom sucks the very color from the world, my perception monochromatic and surreal. He pulls me down to him. I have come to know, I cannot restrain myself alone. His draw stronger than my ability to refrain. He is relentless. My attraction to his storm too intense to easily escape.
I reached to my other lover, but he is just a man. How can he combat a demon? Besides, he’s not there. He is off slaying dragons of his own; while this phantom knight threatens to obscure me. What words could he send enough to protect me from my nemesis? Does it even matter anymore? My menace’s objective already met in the devastation of my heart’s new love. Now, one more thing to grieve.
There is another, a friend, but more. His sword of wit always sharp and a shield of uncommon sense at the ready. He builds a castle of laughter and soft words for me to rest within safe and sure. His arms could be my haven, should I choose. His honor forbids me to be untrue to another. Such is his spirit more noble and wise than mine.
I’m trapped. No answer the one I want, none without harsh consequence. To be released from this pain, is there anything more urgent? Is there a choice without regret, without future condemnation? The devil his due, I see only his cruel countenance at the end of any path I take. No way out. Checkmate.
Random girl
With a
Random word
Random thoughts
As they run through
My mind
Random fears
As they chill
My heart
Random lust
As it warms
My loins
Random girl
In a
Random world
Random loves
As they destroy
My life
Random hopes
As they embrace
My spirit
Random ideas
As they save
My soul
Random girl
With a
Random word
In a
Random world
Feel the warmth embracing
Your arms around my soul
Your heart wrapped round my mind
This journey with you
My pleasure
This life with you
My destiny
This time with you
My madness
How can you know
How I feel
Chest pounding
Ignited
Engaged
Intrigued
Blood racing
How I feel
How can you know
My madness
This time with you
My destiny
This life with you
My pleasure
This journey with you
Your heart wrapped round my mind
Your arms around my soul
Feel the warmth embracing
I watch
The blossomings
And the train wrecks
Both
With equal
Fascination
Miss Demure Restraint 