A young boy walked down the dark alleys of life. As he looked out in the distance, he noticed the pattern that the street lights made along the side walk. The pattern of circles of light, one after the other.
The everlasting night was still. Yet every now and then, a gentle warm breeze would caress the boy as he continued his journey on.
Nothing around worth seeing, nothing worth stopping for. In his mind, only the thoughts and desires of getting home. The only place he belongs. He is an alien amongst all the concrete buildings and homes that are all around him.
Along his path appeared a small white light. The closer he got to it, there was a feeling growing inside of him. A desire to hold on to something so pure. He wanted to have this light; he wanted for his life to glow the way that it did.
As he lifted his hands slowly to grasp a hold of it, he noticed it was no bigger than his palm. He attempted bringing it close to his lips. Closing his eyes, the boy wanted to hold on to that moment in his mind. To his surprise, The light that was now resting on his hands felt like soft skin. The moment his lips touched the light, although he was unable to open his eyes, he saw her. That celestial being that was now kissing him. A girl.
Her hair came down on the tip of his fingers and felt like gentle drops of rain. The taste from her lips was so sweet, he could only think of it as honey. It was a moment of ecstacy that seemed to last a lifetime.
There was something sharp against his chest. The boy was so overwelmed with pleasure and satisfaction that he was immuned to any other feeling.
In this moment of trance, he knew there was something else happening. He could sense it. As if there was something pretruding skin, piercing into flesh. The warm fluids inhesitantly pouring, running over his skin.
The light, the girl, the pleasure and everything that came together at that moment gradually faded. To him it seemed an eternity, but he knew that whatever did happen was just a brieve moment in time.
While maintaining the image of the girl in his mind, he opened his eyes. To his disappointment she was not there, nor was the light that he had intended to keep. All that was left was the feeling of pain in his chest, close to his heart.
He thought he could have been imagening the whole thing.
As he looked down the dark alleys, he knew where he was. He remmembered his journey home and continued to walk down the empty streets. He had stood for an unknown amount of time. He hoped for that pain to go away and it would with the passing of time. What the boy did not know was that he did have a wound. As he walked on, the life that was pouring out of him was leaving a trail of blood on the ground wherever he went.
The wound in his chest was open, he was bleeding. There was nothing he could do. The boy simply kept on with the thoughts and desires to get home. He knew that when he did get home, the place where he belongs, he would hurt no more. For now, the pain was there and the wound was real. |
Submission Name: Acheing Heart
