Simon & Garfunkel ~ The Sound of Silence
Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence
A footnote to a story not yet told does, on the surface, appear oddly decadent, yet in truth the decadence lies between the lines of the story itself, within the whispers and aches of the memories. It lies in wait beneath each held breath and exquisite tear shed, and resonates darkly amongst the echoes of each literal primal scream.
This is no fairytale with a saccharine sweet ending.
This is life.
Raw, unfiltered, an exploration of emotion and motivation, a glimpse into the psyche of sexual dominance and submission as sadist and masochist collide.
With the frailty and fragility of our humanity exposed, insecurities and miscommunication brought sharply, and at times painfully into focus through the foggy lense of my recollection, we are seen as we truly are.
We are human, we are flawed, and that is where the beauty truly resides.
It’s within the cacophony of a thundering heart as fear floods the veins.
It’s within the overwhelming power the man I call Sir exudes, and the effect that has upon me.
It’s within the path we find ourselves on having got things wrong as well as right.
To taste that weekend would be to indulge in an expensive dark chocolate whose heady flavour lingers upon the tongue, at times overwhelming the palette.
To experience it would be to revel in the darkness in which monsters don’t even bother to hide.
To dream of it is to wake petrified, shaking, taunted by the desire to linger a while longer upon each fragmented reminiscence.
He told me He was going to make me cry.
He told me if it was evil I desired, then evil I was going to get.
I have to wryly smile as hindsight hands me my doubt that he’d ever bring such a threat to fruition, sarcastically gift wrapped with my ridiculous naivety.