It started as a helpful gesture
There’s a moment where the world always tries to take control
Of the things that you think and the way you read your signs
Everybody reads without knowing it, every small piece of sense that comes to their energy
I took a shower moments ago thinking all these thoughts that I only thought I would remember, that would stick to the walls of my imagination and be able to write them down after I left the box of high pressure rain
Maybe it was the running water beating against every inch of my body that gave me such thoughts that only I could be thinking, right?
Like how the tears of men could never compare to the tears women drown themselves in..
Could it have been the music within the infinite raindrops the shower head provided provoking my intriguing thesises that popped into my subconscious
What if I never turned the shower sprinkler off.. would it ever truly stop running? I’m too broke to test this experiment at the time.
Why is it that I run into these stories of women being beaten and accepting what they do, all because that black/ and or white man is their universe, their galaxy, the only thing they can’t seem to escape even though the possibility has approached them many.. many times.
Even though this is only the first night it has occurred that I endured being a helping hand only to lend an ear as well to hear and listen to such a lifeless story. I feel like it is all I’ve experienced from the time my conscious eye could see.. maybe not continuously, time after time, but two in a row? Two female entities stories that bring me to what I have been casted into the world with nightmares with? For what possible reason?? in my questioning Shakespearean poetic soul voice of thought maybe I act as a healing spirit to women like this because of my condoling heart.
To think this whole plateau of letters put together to create words and my indulging previous shower thoughts, came from the question & answer “you need a lighter still?” What if she was lying about the man she seems to be “trapped” with? The world cannot fool me, I know these men exist. What if she made up these stories and the pictures you saw from six years ago were once real, but now continuously happening, a fluke? Pshh, why put these devious thoughts to my brain matter and soul spirit when I know and felt and saw the bumps and bruises of that girls body that broadcasted such a relatable story of reality.. because you want me to feel weak like the men and police who could never stand up to and stop the things of a man that they are inferior to. The world would like me to fall so unconsciously.. and that is exactly what will happen, once my body is too old to support the strong soul that overpowers it.
Enough about me.
Could she have provoked it.. I could see it the way she was smacking my stern chest when I went about my own influence, after I would speak my bold words of seducement while she was feeling on my lower stomach and upper pelvis. She was all over me at one point with me being the intriguing man I am, I thought she would either provide a ******* or oral *** for me going out of my way for her troubles. Nope just a couple soft smacks to the chest, but me.. bow to such a weak ***** out her right minds actions and be equal? Never. The thing about weak drunk people.. they always do and forget. Me, a strong cautious minded human being, do & remember.. even if it hurts. Like writing this piece of possible or impossible deja vu. My life is a hook & anything that crosses it see, is the bait and dinner.
Meanwhile, learning this story all I could think about is the oral compensation I wanted from giving this woman a ride. Some head.. a thank you.. something along either of those lines. Neither happened. ******* is all I was really aiming for after I sensed she was into me, calling me fine over and over & wanting to sit and waste somebody’s time. I conceived it as that after the fact I returned home and began to write this.
What if though, the story that she spoke of, of the police and even her own mother being such insubordinate cowards to their “right” and true morals and never helping this woman who they claimed was “making this stuff up” to stick up for the abusive man even though she had pure raw evidence that he was an abuser.. and never helping her because they were truly scared of some *****-made “man” being & I was the ear to be spoken to that took it serious. Fools. Is what the lowball Michigan City police are. Bigger fools is what the woman and the man are. They deserve to **** each other if that’s what the world keeps pushing towards, for these pointless drunken addicted souls.
Even if I did care, why would I change it. Why risk my peace to save a woman that clearly doesn’t care to be saved. there’s a million miles to run away to.. attachment is such a weird vice. Or could I just be looking at this the wrong way still. It would take a knowledgeable doctor to break this down and come up with an answer, which I could possibly be. So my answer with being knowledgeable, but not a doctor.. is broken love is such a strong evil in this world. Because it still has the potential to be love but it just never will because it is broken in too many places.
Helping a walking woman has never gotten me anywhere great
