Helena’s Note

I was naïve
To think that I’d be cherished
I was foolish
To believe that I was the special one
I thought
I was brought into this world
As a result of a conscientious effort of love
I’d never imagine
That I was a reluctant and unexpected mistake
I could never tell
That grudges and resentment and worse would follow
That my name was conveniently given
Because the spot where you and you whored
Was under the neon sign ‘Helena’s Bar’

Of course I was too infantile to comprehend
The stress, the mental abuse and the physical torture
You and you contributed
All I could do was cry instinctively after every hurt
But when I began to make sense of this world
You and you added on to my already battered soul and bruised body
You labelled me the seed of the bastard
You called me the wasted product of the slut
You and you took turns to inflict psychological and corporeal wounds
And the only thing I could do each time was to weep
Was I capable of other things?

I honestly attempted seeing the positives of life
I genuinely trusted the friendly souls in my circle
(Of which you and you were never in)
I quietly admired the relationships fostered
I rather bitterly envied the beautiful experiences witnessed
I was beginning to realise
That the world out there is worth waiting for
That the people out there are worth living for
That perhaps I could count on the person God
That painstakingly I must grow up

However
You and you intervened again
Except that this time
You and you went beyond all that you had done
You and you decided on my destiny
I guess I’d owed both of you too much
To delay my payment

Now
I’ve paid the price
Not my choice
But your choice
And your choice
Which leaves me with only one question

You
The bastard whose desire couldn’t be contained
All you needed was a shot to impress
But it turned out to be a shot that killed yourself
I became your thorn in the throat constantly
Your target of explicit langauge
And your object of itch
Have you ever loved me?

You
The slut whose invitation to all couldn’t be resisted
All you wanted was attention and love
But what you got was attention and lust
I became your pain in the ass continuously
Your punchbag of fury and frustration
And your article of shame
Have you ever loved me?

I was commanded to honour you and you
Honour you and you I shall
But I always wanted to know
Have you ever loved me?
It is just a simple question
I guess I won’t know the answer, will I?

Advertisements
Published in: on Wednesday, March 14, 2007 at 12:59 am  Comments (3)  
Tags: , ,

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://doorsleftopen.wordpress.com/2007/03/14/helenas-note/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

3 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. A dramatic narrative poem, Canterbury. 🙂

  2. Ow, ow and ow – what a poignant and tragic poem, Canterbury – my heart is moved to tears.

  3. I did shed a tear or two myself, if I may say. It wasn’t easy penning these thoughts as I tried to relate.
    The fact is THINGS do happen.
    It’s really tragic that THINGS are allowed to happen.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: