My eyes popped out as she explained, from tale to tale, she tied the trail. Defensive twist of mottled lies; convinced she’d served a perfect pie. “Went there to make a call” she claimed… “My Uncle’s place at park view lane”. That’s quite a call; all through the night, “Uncle” indeed… What treacherous plight.
She rants to push my case aback and turns defense into attack. I’m so bemused by twist of tunes; now seem I am the one accused. Oh yes she knows my buttons well, with time she puts my fears to rest. How smart she was; or so she thought, her mangled face, I’m forced to clot.
Apologies from me to her; “accused her wrongly”… That’s the catch. Could see all through her feeble yarns but chose to tag along with her. Who could resist that lustful touch? Just quit the fuss… I’m in her clutch. Fulfilled, she gave that soothing smile, a sweet warm hug… We’re back in line.
As days go by, more shocking blur; disturbing mysteries rocks my core. Contradictory sail, defensive wail; exposed by lies to fix stale tales. Beyond the veil I felt her pain, deep down could see her pride in chains. She’d never wished for me to know; tried all so hard, but shot her toes.
Then came that birthday night for Dave, Tracey and I had planned to grace. She came to me in so much pain, “can’t make the party”… She exclaimed. “Not in this state”, I had concurred, will have to go with her accord; “You go alone and have some fun, I’ll take some drugs, then try to slump.”
She rose and made her way to lay, straight path, right down the pile of hay. Quiver with fever as we move, escorted her back to her room. Back at my base, was so enslaved as Tracey’s messed up state replays. Felt kind of sad with all the snag, not keen to wave the party flag.
Mad Paul had jerked me off from bed, his usual self… So full of stress. “I need to pick my babe”, he said… “Escort me there before you rest.” “Oh please, not there again”, I said, “the female dome? Just back from there! Escorted Tracey off to bed, I need to lay and rest my head.”
Oh well, am there again with Paul, let’s say he filled my bed with thorns. It’s late, we’d sent for Ann… Paul’s “babe”, strolled to a darkened zone to wait. We’d barely sat to wait for Ann; a shadowy figure strut the flank. She’s fully dressed to rock the night, a closer look… Tracey!!! I’m blank.
... Personal Inspiration and Motivational Poetry Collection
on to the next episode:
"The Rude Awakening"
September 08, 2010, 03:09:35 AM