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The Web Poetry Corner - Theresa Cecilia Garcia - The Melting Point Of Wax: Flesh and Fruition

The Melting Point Of Wax: Flesh and Fruition

by

Theresa Cecilia Garcia

Truth is a powerful reminder
even when you decide to ignore it.
Deep in conversation
the phone plastered to her ear.
Hearing his sexy voice
knowing she loves him
he offers her the fairy tale.
Visualizing their very first face to face meeting
she turns back momentarily
still talking.
In her mind's eye
she sees her own guileless smile fade.
Dead Away ,
in a matter of seconds,
she shuts down
proving herself untouchable.

Once there was a time
when the summer was perfect
and she awoke to hot bread and butter.
Watching Saturday morning cartoons
The Archies
Road Runner
Bugs Bunny
Playing Hopscotch
Jacks
Mystery Date
Jumping Rope
Smiling and chasing fireflies.
Six kids in a hammock.
Crying about scraped knees,
runny noses.
The bonding of neighborhood friends.
Not knowing there was more to cry about than scraped knees
or runny noses.
Not knowing the magic would be lost.
The feeling of safety in her sanctuary, broken.
Wishing things could go back to the way they were
that perfect summer
when she didn't know.
Life Crashes .
No one ever warns you .
Nothing is perfect.
Mothers resent you ,
fathers wish you were never born,
17 year olds get raped by their boyfriends.

He wasn't a trespasser
in the night.
He wasn't a sniper dressed all in black .
He was the one who pulled the trigger and killed her light.
She couldn't believe it had happened that way.

Jake can never know

Staring off into the night
she hangs up the phone,
shuts down the computer,
turns soundlessly in her leather chair.
Feeling cold .
Making puffs in the freezing air .

In a split second of fury and inattention,
a horrendous inhuman roar exploads through her head
and she is taken back.
Recalling.
She was 17 .

"I have to ask, are you wet? Because I'm getting hard just looking at you."
Forced smile, "What?"
Uncomfortable, "No, not at all."
"Hmmmmmmm not wet yet? Can I help?"
His facade of civility snapped as he lashed out
jerking her by the hair so hard
all she could see was stars
She screamed and fought,
bit into his hand and drew blood
As he dragged her head toward him
His hot breath on her face
"Don't be so puritanical and do not call for there's nobody here.
Do not shout,
do not ask or beg
There is nobody,
There is nobody."

The phone rings,
Jake wants answers .
All she could do
was roll towards the edge of the chair
and vomit .

Wishing she could tell him
just how much she loves him .
Wishing she could trust that love.
Wishing she wasn't so afraid .
So very afraid.
Wishing away all the casual sex,
the detachment.
Wishing things could go back to the way they were
that perfect summer
when she didn't know .

There is nobody
There is nobody

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The Wedding Feast is Over
by: Joyce Hemsley
from: Sunderland, England, UK

To visit all of Theresa Cecilia Garcia's poems, click HERE

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