* DENNIS : perhaps heaven isn’t meant for the likes of me .
There is a pain inside of me & it flares like a billion flames burning up the night sky. There is a pain inside of me , & it moves swiftly like a rose - gold ballet , deftly , managing to seduce me with its glamour & gore. There is a pain inside of me , & it creeks ‘tween my ribs like the doorsteps of my step - father’s old summer home. I recall how carefree we once were : my sister & I. Her , in a cotton - white summer chemise , & I , in nothing but my swimming trunks , the ochre sun pouring ‘tween my shoulder blades , our downy limbs exposed to the world. There was a time when the cruelty of my mother’s iron fist , became like a second language. I would come to understand her alternating moods as one does a change in seasons. Winter was melancholy , the rich greens of spring were greed , summer was lackadaisical & cool like the sea, fall was nostalgic : she spoke to my sister & I least during those months. Perhaps , reminiscing about the days when she was still young & desirable ; before we had ruined her nubile form with the burden of birth. But Mother always loved me best , & so , I feared her disapproval more than disease , or famine , or war. I lived for her praise.
But there has always been a monster within me. A hungry villain who sought to destroy & conquer. To tear villages asunder & rule like the emperors of Rome. He was first borne when SHE touched me. Something within me had broke that day , snapped , like the strings of the violin my mother insisted I learn to play. There is no feeling colder , more vile , than losing your innocence at such a tender age ; no breeze that can chill with the same intensity , no hideously grotesque boogeyman who could frighten me more than the glare of her eye - glasses in passing. I was drowning. For months I lamented in my misery , in the self - hatred that burned at me like Hell’s fire. One night , while it was storming , as we lay under the covers looking through our step-father’s crude magazines , I confided in my darling sister about that afternoon. Mauled over the details that had haunted me for so long. She swore to never tell anyone what she had learned , promised , that this would remain our dirty little secret. But I did not trust her , for Deandra was as much devil as me. & we were twins.
& then I met HIM. He was sweet & kind , puppy - eyed & dog - eared. & I think to myself , this is the kind of man who will worship me till my eyes fall from their gaping sockets , & I am old , & decrepit , & young no more. He is perfect in every way , from the determined line of his adolescent muscles to the hilt of his nose , I understood then , that he would grow up to be a great & noble man. A handsome suitor. & he would be all mine. Thus , I sank my fangs into him , & to no surprise , he grew fond of the pain , enjoyed how I preened him as masters do their prized pets.
A pour the wine from my the bejewelled decanter into my glass first , then his - I have no room for manners , I am too much of an egomaniac. The crimson liquid settles , I watch as it floats delicately within the parameters of the goblet. I consider the physics of this ; it keeps me from breaking the nearest vase over his head. Laughing , as I lick my lips of his blood. Despite my mind whirling into temptatious madness , I remain calm : time is frugal. ‘ Your stomach doesn’t hurt , Charlie. To me - it just seems like you’re desperate to get out of this dinner. Isn’t that the case ? ’ I chuckle. ‘ Well , at least have a bite before you go , don’t be so RUDE . ’
THERE HAVE ONLY BEEN THREE INSTANCES WHERE I FOUND MYSELF SAYING THE WORDS : I LOVE YOU . i . ) i was nothing but a child ; mother held me dear &. close to her heart . i recall the hazy outline of her figure , the warmth of her hands , &. her red ― painted mouth . against my ear , i heard the gentle beat of her heart , &. how she promised me that it was mine . i laughed , digging my fingers into her skin , greedily looking for the organ sworn to me . she was mine &. mine alone , i was reassured ! but at night , i lay awake , running my young hands ‘gainst creased fabric : cold &. empty . i hear the gentle thud of man against wood , the shrill cry of a woman in pain , the deafening grunt of a man i’ve never known existed . i remember the way my heart raced , the way my hands seemed to weep with sweat ―――― i was terrified ! where was the woman promised to me / where was my mother ? i shook &. thrashed about , echoing the noises beyond my bedroom wall . i pound my fists upon old drywall , knuckles bleeding &. bruised . each carnal grunt is answered by a hiccup &. a sob , each ungodly thrust echoed by another fist into the wall . ( * MOTHER , COME BACK . MOTHER , I LOVE YOU . )
ii . ) his kisses taste like honey &. scotch , warming my throat &. chest &. mouth . the sun envied him &. resided in every smile offered to me . he was an angel , i believed . he was every saint in scripture , every divine entity that resided between verses &. hymns . he was every poet’s dream , every artist’s muse ! i love him , i love him , i love him . i don’t think i shall ever tire of saying the phrase ! once , i felt his fingers press ‘gainst the apple of my cheek , &. he seemed to pick the love out of me . see how i bloomed a mighty , almost embarrassingly , red ; o’ i was the envy of every spring rose . he laughed , &. it sounded like song . i wanted to hear it again &. again &. again . a moon ― less night consisted of the drunken press of mouths , confused / exploring . here , i confessed to him like a sinner to a saint . impassioned , i babbled like a fool , skipping &. tripping on my syllables . how long i waited for a moment so golden , how long i yearned for it ! kissing him felt like kissing gold ; he’s all i’ve ever wanted , you see . ( * I LOVE YOU , I LOVE YOU , I LOVE YOU . )
iii . ) i return to the night of my childhood , where fear is familiar &. has made a home in my lungs . it shakes me like winter’s tempest , leaves me with rattling bones &. frozen hands . he terrifies me , i must confess . he is beautiful , a custom ― made behemoth ! the gods have spat out a demon perfectly made for me ; he is dressed in reds &. golds &. purples , the colors of the righteous , the colors of the gods ! he tips my head back , parts my mouth with his , &. he lets sweetness drip into my throat . he kisses me with teeth &. sharpened nails , feeds me with cherries &. lets me choke on their pits . he forces me to confess words of faux adoration , &. so i do , in hopes that i could escape . I LOVE YOU , I THINK . I LOVE YOU / I MUST .
HE WANTS TO KILL ME , this much i can gather . like prey to predator , i sense this danger , this incoming doom . i need to escape , i need to escape , THERE IS NO ESCAPE . panic bubbles in me , dark &. sticky , &. it causes me to stand from my seat , perhaps a little too quickly . my chair falls &. so does my knife ; the thud &. clatter of metal &. wood creates a sound too loud for a night like this . in panic , i brush my fork so it falls as well . some people would call this idiotic , while i would call it symmetry . i gulp a mouth full of thorns , noises escaping my throat like a newborn babe , shaking / unsure . again &. again , i open my mouth , trying to patch &. build sentences i deem appropriate for the situation . i come up empty ― handed , thus , without a word , i run . alas , the mighty falls ! i trip on my own foot , &. feel my teeth clack &. rip the skin of my mouth , resulting in perhaps a gruesome display of skin &. muscle .
❛ shit ―――― ! dude , i’m so sorry but i really got to go , i just ―――― someone’s calling me man , i gotta go answer it ! ❜
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