Flashbacks.
Somebody make them stop. All I have are these memories. are these flashbacks. are these ghosts that haunt my waking. that rule my dreaming. I can’t sleep. I can’t dream. I can’t find my sanctuary that should be my safe place. i am not safe.
Do you know the feeling? Do you know the memory of holding your legs together with all your might and it’s nothing against a man. It’s nothing against a marine, a man who serves our country so diligently? Do you know? Do you know the disgrace? I wonder what his sister thinks of him. I wonder what his mother thinks of him. I wonder what his supervisor thinks of him. I wonder.
I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. I won’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep with any man. they hurt me so badly, so deeply. the only thing that won’t hurt me is another woman. A gentle, sensuous woman.
I want to be next to her body.
I want to disappear for fear that someone might see through my soul and see the preposterous things that I’ve done, that I’ve created, that I’ve become. all that comes back through is the night. the dark, lonesome, haunting night. I’m afraid.
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Gypsy Pirate edited this post 1 year ago. Read the previous text »
Flashbacks.
Somebody make them stop. All I have are there memories. are these flashbacks. are these ghosts that haunt my waking. that rule my dreaming. I can’t sleep. I can’t dream. I can’t find my sanctuary that should be my safe place. i am not safe.
Do you know the feeling? Do you know the memory of holding your legs together with all your might and it’s nothing against a man. It’s nothing against a marine, a man who serves our country so diligently? Do you know? Do you know the disgrace? I wonder what his sister thinks of him. I wonder what his mother thinks of him. I wonder what his supervisor thinks of him. I wonder.
I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. I won’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep with any man. they hurt me so badly, so deeply. the only thing that won’t hurt me is another woman. A gentle, sensuous woman.
I want to be next to her body.
I want to disappear for fear that someone might see through my soul and see the preposterous things that I’va done, that I’ve created, that I’ve become. all that comes back though is the night. the dark, lonesome, haunting night. I’m afraid.
bramblejelly
B.Sutphin
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