Tag Archives: prose

Death is a reward.

by

I dreamed of him again, his fingers thrashing wildly in my clammed up vagina. My nipples were erect, not from pleasure, but from shame. His pot belly was sliding conveniently across my breasts, all the way up, till his penis found its way into my unwilling mouth, forcing my lips apart, the entire shaft went down my throat.

I grasped the sheets so tight, eyes clenched shut. A single, angry tear rolled down my cheek, disappearing down the snow white pillow without a trace. The room was silent, as though filled with a crowd of invisible, awkward spectators, all listening to the sound of me gagging.

He then fucked me, perspiration running down his temple. I laid still, my body stiffly rocking to his plunges. I wanted to throw up. I felt as though my ribs were buckling under his weight. I could smell his sweat and taste that overpowering stench of lust and greed. His penis stuck in like a sore entrapment.

“I will see you again. And I will fuck you harder. I own you, bitch.”

I left the room, my body felt like it was on fire. I wanted to throw my dirty self down a building. But all the inspiration quotes I read the day before acted like a guide, calming my frenzied mind, holding back my impulse… of death.

How can I die? I have to repay my parents for raising me. I have to make sure he won’t post up dirty stories of me, smearing my name with rancid bullshit even after I am stone cold in a casket.

I locked myself in my room, where I was supposed to feel the safest. I slapped myself over and over again. I deserved to be punished. For allowing a fat, disgusting mad man to degrade me this way. Desecrate my life, ripping it to shreds, until there’s no shadow to my own soul. I took out a whip and lashed out at my vagina. This disgusting piece of flesh that was raped and abused. I wanted so much, for it to be removed from my body.

The pain comforted me. I told myself this bitter punishment will relief me a tad bit from this horrible sin.  The physical treatment was like a weaponry pastor. I prayed to the rod for forgiveness.

I slammed my head against the wall, as if the memories could be knocked out from the impact.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*.

With each stronger blow I dealt, the lesser I felt. I continued doing it until everything goes numb, my face red from the hard slaps, my lower body paralyzed from the lashes. I lie down on my bed, quivering, shaking, crying. Still, my soul chose not to dissipate. Still, my heart beats. My body wanted to live. I had to crawl through the brambles of life’s cruel, existing torment.

I realized by then, epiphany through sheer misery; that death… is a reward.

And I do not deserve it yet.

Drag your feet, trudge through the grime. Let dirt decorate your skin but never taint your soul. Breathe, like the world owes you. Cling on harder and harder like an adamant root in the eroded soil. Cling on to life.

 

Obsession.

by

If I could manipulate elements, time & space, matter, even;

I want not to save the world, but to put you in a little glass dome.

You can have it filled with crystalline snow that billows, dancing to the cold, singing with the howling wind. Fear not my love. Think not of it as fearsome as The Shining. I’ll make you feel warmth where the prick from ice would be. Fashion you a castle made of only the sturdiest from the frozen kingdom. Wolves will litter at your feet, for you to play or to kill. Crystal maidens will wait on you, presenting nothing but egregious robes and hot food. The nation will celebrate your beauty and my unyielding love for you, bitter like frost, undaunted.

Or even, laze eternally by the beach whose horizon can’t be fathomed. Endless waves, always sunny. I’ll conjure seashells of the finest, most exotic patterns, but none as amazing as you. I’ll make the mermaids sing of my love for you, in their hauntingly sweet melody. The crabs and lobsters, all sumptuous crustaceans line up to queue for their noble deaths upon a merry flame, served smoking hot on your golden plate. So that you, my queen, can have the freshest harvest still piquant of the roaring salty waves.

If you want it mythical, there’s nothing my imagination will stop at just for a smile across your porcelain face. Unicorns will prance for you, glistening in the sunlight with their majestic manes, sparkling like how they should be. The forest green and lush, sings a secret rhyme, wildflowers will wave at you with glee. Your footsteps will sprout endless cycles of spring – Of magnolias, roses, tall looming trees even. You will be the giver of life. Just like how you are, like my syncopated breath. I’d throw in a Snow White fantasy if you’d even just whisper for it. Rabbits, deer and the great grizzly bear; they will keep you company in happy banter. You will never be alone.

How about a New York city dream, the poshest penthouse in Manhattan. All that glitters awaits in a walk in wardrobe. Ceiling to floor windows that grant intoxicating view of the skyline, guarded by sweeping curtains of the finest silk and linen. Do you indulge in books? For I can bring stories of the entire universe to you. Everyday you can find yourself catapulting to a different time and place, all within the papyrus skimmed through your fingertips.  I can give you the entire city, if apple is your favorite fruit. A fancy car to tour the city, Maserati, Lamborghini or would you prefer a Ferrari?  I hope you like Need for speed.

The list would go on. But I’ll save that for later. Because its 5.58 and in 2 minutes you will walk in to the diner and pour me the coffee that I am waiting for… And I, will clutch the cup firmly, hoping for a brisk touch of your slender fingers.