MARY JANE'S STORIES: IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD
I close my eyes and breathe; your fingers brush my skin unleashing a shock of violent and electrifying magnitude. The heart beats sinking into an almost infernal abyss, an abyss from which it is difficult to see the way out. If my eyes had a voice they would scream "Hold me! Don't let this body become the victim of somebody else’s hands!". Your presence is so powerful that it suffocates me. It would be useless to run away, it would be useless to beg myself to turn my back and go as far as I can. But that day always comes after all, the day when I realize that I have been the victim of mere madness and that I have believed I was loved and desired. The ecstasy of passion and genuine love dies out under the drops of the freezing rain that follows disappointment. Reality slowly digs the pit where I will bury my self-esteem and all that was the baggage of my emotions. In the twilight I sit down in solitude, smoking a little weed. I stare at the world and everything turns into an empty, whitish and infinite expanse. I abused my name and my existence until I forgot them. Unconsciously something comes to my memory, and I feel a stream of tears running down my face. Once again I close my eyes, breathe and end my mental torture on the sweet notes of Duke Ellington's piano which, peaceful and melancholy, cradle and caress me.
Martina.
😔❤
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