Remembrance

To be said that after years the resentment had not cooled one inch of her heart, her mouldy darkened and furious heart.

She had looked for that kind of relief before. When she had seen into other men's eyes sometimes she could deceive herself into thinking that she could love them, or to at least have a pleasant time with them.

But right after they opened their mouth and she heard their voices the illusion shattered into so many pieces that she always smiled this mysteriouls smile. The smile that one woman smiled with bitter regret following a sudden breakup at the fond but unloving memories that she had created with her new paramour.

So there, she thought, remained this jagged shard, this ruined shrapnel that kept her up at night trying to guide her, to teach her again the fragance of his closet, the bristled hair that he posssesd, lemon sweet that would always stand up in the shower in such defiance to the watery torrent.

As she retraced in that midnight dream the contours of his face, the tight jaw that he sported with such grace her heart and tummy stirred, like the rotten egg, the cholera inducing gas that her would be lovers were.

And aching for that irrestible drag, the pull of that orbital, she would again sink into that disguting plebian betrayal of her sacred valours, debasing herlsef into protstation to her destiny. And her dreams told her in his voice crystal clear.

"You are a woman, your place is to be mine, mine and mine always." And she, covered in dirt, covered in passion, with tears in her cheeks, and with a couple of magnificent, glistening, strained to the max, glaring bloshot eyes would deny his desire.

Andthen his battle, his rhetorical galore continued in full force.

Striking her betwtixt the chest, shouting at her back, kneeling her lower to the ground he would again try to take what was not hers to try. In a rocking motion, in a swaying condescetion that so many so youngly were taught and told, he would reduce her inner fire by the rhythm of his swollen cock.

To wake up then, to startled up then, and to see in front of you the nightmare bestowed reality, the creautre of hypnopompia made a solid. That set her in such tremor. Cause a half-man half-snake that inhabited the shadows reflected of her past. It would swing by side and side like a drunken, potbellied creature. But the demon did not possess the beauty of the taker, the real one she told hersef, also had the cunning glamour to go with.

But it did not matter, for she felt asphyxiated, strangled, and unable to escape.

She could feel that same sinister tug, that same sicked pull, the one that started all and releaveld the true nature of Tom.

She would see this inner member in the thunder of the passing car, and the wicked smile sported in that soulless eyeless mind.

She would hear the echo of her beggin pleads...

And with contempt she would reap the veil, she would reap her lovers face.

The one of no name as if struck by her actions was surpised, completely flabergasted, as he laid there bleeding by the mouth.

She stood up seeing his former husband whimper pitifully, her former knigh in armour reduced to a middle aged, balding man, her rapist slowly hemorrhaging and trickling down a very dark and curious liquid to the underground.

And she would smile, she would smile that same and wicked smile that her rapist had. Independent at last.