Help Me, My Imaginary Friend…


The whiff of liquor from his lips, the aroma of alcohol they both sipped. The throbbing of their hearts and the longest hours they spent together. The performance on the stage with curtains down, they only portrayed an act… Was it a role they play? Was she told that it was a masquerade? Sweet naive girl, everybody pretends for nothing is real in this world.

A sudden flame burned her skin, her clothes might nabbed the fire. In awe she whispered to him, “help me…” and he calmed her uneasiness with his powerful but mellow strokes. Her heart sought for forgiveness. Even if she was drained out with her spirits and vigor, she sustained the lengthy motion for his presence kept her alive.

Thereafter, when the show was over, so many aches and spasms that she endured. “Help me…” she cried out. “Help me with this… I need you!” yelling at the cold wind on her knees. The madness wouldn’t vamoose, persecuting her daily. “Where are you? I can’t exterminate the inferno in me!”

The touch of his hand and the blaze on his flesh were so tangible. She never gave up until her heart froze because she continued the pursuit of her career. Nevertheless, he didn’t actually exist. He was the character in her head and the man of her creation. She called again, “help me, my imaginary friend… you’re all that I needed and wanted”.

Snapped out of it. He was not a real man. Everything was a chunk of her fantasies. Was it only her imagination?

xoxo i luv u more… xoxo


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