A MINDful Testimony
The mind is the most powerful and weakest element of the body. So powerful that it covers up the battered pieces of a forgiving heart. So weak that it is blinded by the windows peering out to a world of fantasy. A weak mind, strait-jacketed by
life’s heartaches, so easily drawn to a single touch, one move, one glance; a state of vulnerability that I am well accustomed to. So strong is the force that keeps me in this state of mind; so deep am I in this state of mental anguish.
The air was crisp and clear and yet it pained me to inhale its freshness. Pent up aggression hardened a heart of gold and left me in a trance; a stifling existence to which I’ve always believed to have no escape. Living, and functioning amongst the living, but not quite “alive.” In this world, but not part of this world, walking the paths of life with a hallow soul in search of a peace of mind.
And all that changed when his titillating presence stood before me. A wisp of cocoa butter and cologne splashed against his chocolate skin calmed me; it warmed my cold heart and revived a lost soul. I breathed in and then he breathed out. I breathed out and then he breathed in; each breath evolved into an erotic exchange of energy. I was captivated, but not quite the victim because all the while each move we made, each breath we took, I slowly but surely absorbed every ounce of life out of him. And then I stood there like a blood-thirsty vampire with my eyes fixed on his.
“What’s on your mind?” He whispered as I inhaled. Such a loaded question that was; my mind and heart so stuffed with memories and heartache and yearning that it triggered the river behind my eyes to overflow and dampen my cheeks. He proceeded to cup my face with his palms. The only hand I’ve seen big enough to scoop away my bucket of tears; and like a leech I gravitated towards his presence. He was a catharsis of sorts, who could open the deepest darkest portals of my mind. I exhaled.
I escaped through him-- through the rhythmic insertion of a pulse...one thrust could instantly send my mind into temporary paralysis; a blank state of which I welcome with open arms. I welcomed the feeling of passion and effortless sentiment. And when the pulse retracted, I'm left in the same agonizing predicament; I felt so dead inside. I looked in his satisfied brown eyes and he embraced me. What a necropheliac is he, for when it's all done I'm no more than a corpse, waiting for the next escape to be alive and free again. Until then my soul is abandoned and left to float amongst the careless of winds, carrying it far far away into the shadows of the abyss, waiting to inhale, and then exhale again.
Jennifer Vassel
life’s heartaches, so easily drawn to a single touch, one move, one glance; a state of vulnerability that I am well accustomed to. So strong is the force that keeps me in this state of mind; so deep am I in this state of mental anguish.
The air was crisp and clear and yet it pained me to inhale its freshness. Pent up aggression hardened a heart of gold and left me in a trance; a stifling existence to which I’ve always believed to have no escape. Living, and functioning amongst the living, but not quite “alive.” In this world, but not part of this world, walking the paths of life with a hallow soul in search of a peace of mind.
And all that changed when his titillating presence stood before me. A wisp of cocoa butter and cologne splashed against his chocolate skin calmed me; it warmed my cold heart and revived a lost soul. I breathed in and then he breathed out. I breathed out and then he breathed in; each breath evolved into an erotic exchange of energy. I was captivated, but not quite the victim because all the while each move we made, each breath we took, I slowly but surely absorbed every ounce of life out of him. And then I stood there like a blood-thirsty vampire with my eyes fixed on his.
“What’s on your mind?” He whispered as I inhaled. Such a loaded question that was; my mind and heart so stuffed with memories and heartache and yearning that it triggered the river behind my eyes to overflow and dampen my cheeks. He proceeded to cup my face with his palms. The only hand I’ve seen big enough to scoop away my bucket of tears; and like a leech I gravitated towards his presence. He was a catharsis of sorts, who could open the deepest darkest portals of my mind. I exhaled.
I escaped through him-- through the rhythmic insertion of a pulse...one thrust could instantly send my mind into temporary paralysis; a blank state of which I welcome with open arms. I welcomed the feeling of passion and effortless sentiment. And when the pulse retracted, I'm left in the same agonizing predicament; I felt so dead inside. I looked in his satisfied brown eyes and he embraced me. What a necropheliac is he, for when it's all done I'm no more than a corpse, waiting for the next escape to be alive and free again. Until then my soul is abandoned and left to float amongst the careless of winds, carrying it far far away into the shadows of the abyss, waiting to inhale, and then exhale again.
Jennifer Vassel
posted by Editorial Staff | 10:37 AM
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