Here she is, falling from the ceiling, falling from up above

With such intimacy and without the slightest hesitation, i have left them flow. Pure, naive, and kind were my words. Each word i have spelled made me closer to her. A moment of vulnerability that did not stop me from keeping the wound open. It has been so many decades, hundreds and hundreds, that i did not let myself flow uncensored. Since each day i have spent on this wrecked hole alone felt like a decade to me.

Her very long hair was falling on my shoulders. The softness i felt was fused with her enchanting sent. Her eyes suddenly started raining on me, very tearful red eyes. A thunder followed: A pouring of “I hate you” and “I want you to suffer”. She left herself being the victim of her own alienating impulses. A flood of anger and pain I thought. I am still lying on the ground while facing this unpredictable break down, a manifestation or rather an explosion of the frustration she was carrying. She had a great deal of hatred inside. She kept it inside whenever hands have stolen her purity. She kept it growing inside whenever her insecurities were a prey for mockery and arrogance. She kept it inside whenever her privacy was invaded… I have felt all that pain penetrating me. I gave it the permission to do so. I was bewitched i thought. Bewitched by love and care giving may be. I have welcomed her frenzy with an open heart. I was aware of my incapacity to keep sustaining a sane self. The collapse of my inner temple was a certitude because the entire setting of that experience was a vulnerable one.

The scenery kept changing; a very tiny space around her remained the same. After each transition she kept her firm hold on my corpse. I thought i was dying since we have traveled over all my past, all these images of my rotten life. Till this moment: I am now within the gazing of stars and the loud silence of the universe. Yes her screaming stopped, i hear nothing now. I guess every word she shouted was a curse. A spell that cut open my heart.

i knew in advance how much sensitive my unconscious was to negativity but still wanted to witness moments of my life unfold as i wanted to cleanse her from all that torment.

I have chosen a death that i wont regret. I wanted to disappear holding that memory. To die under her skinny shelter.

Self

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Author: Venusian Cenobite

Do not read me if you get easily offended. Any antisocial material published under this blog is fictional and should not be taken seriously.

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