Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Sweetnotes: MY LITTLE SECRET by Deux

The mosquitoes don’t sting as much as the ones under the last bridge

Night after night I sleep in the discomfort I had been accustomed to, discomfort I wore like a blanket

I found you, you gave me a place without a cost, you didn’t even know me. I appreciated you, you became my semi-goddess, I idolized you.

In your house was a shadow that followed me everywhere. It always peeped when I bathed, it whispered when I slept, it tip-toed with me to dark solitary corners. I was too scared to tell you too scared to return to the streets.

I was bored that day and I was going to be alone in the house with this shadow.

I thought to myself ‘I could turn this lemon to lemonade’ so I left your house for a harmless date away from the shadow. An old flame.

I wasn’t hungry but I had my favorite kind of ice-cream, there was no pop-corn I would have preferred that.

He was nice, a complete gentleman, well-mannered, he even stammered, I thought that was cute! He seemed harmless. He said I caught his eye I wondered 'what about his heart?'

I felt the bruise and every step came with its own indescribable kind of pain. Who would have known so much pain could come from an innocuous bowl of ice cream? Pain that cained with no mercy.

He chocked my throat so I would not scream…I wasn’t going to, I was too weak to. At some point I couldn’t breathe. It will be my secret.

I didn’t scream, I begged him, he begged me too. It was too late, he was in. And then I died.

When I walked back home, people stirred, maybe they didn’t. It felt like they knew my newest secret. The new me.

When it happened the day was alive, neighbours were around. I was young, I was afraid, I was ashamed. I didn’t tell.

I can’t describe the hollowness I feel, I am unworthy.My knuckles bleed. I can’t feel my limbs they are dead. Right now even death felt limb.

I’m walking I feel the airiness, the lightness, the whispers but I don’t feel my innocence

I cry into my hands I have no were to go, there are billions in the world and yet I feel alone

I’m still walking, still searching for what is long gone; Perhaps I was searching for me. I will walk a little faster I may have been too slow.

I was 16 and terrified so I listened and I went back.


  1. Your stories are a guilty pleasure.
    But this got me confused if that was what you sought to achieve then it worked. I 1st think its a teenagers plight after loosing her virginity but then I see some violence. Was she raped? Another thing is the last line it seems unrelated but somewhat detached from the whole story.
    I've a feeling this story has more debth than we see going by your precedense thus shed more light.

  2. Mixture of pleasure and hurt. Deal with it AND MOVE ON. No need crying over spilled milk