Somewhere deep down in the crevices of my tattered and frozen heart I find my self wanting, wanting a life so unlike the one the one I am currently living. A life filled with a free and careless face. Not a care in the world. No pain, no way I can be used for someone’s sick purpose. A life where trust isn’t an issue and a kiss isn’t a weapon. A touch isn’t a sin and a look doesn’t deem you damned.
But does being born in a world filled with hate and destitution means that I should in fact accept nothing less than that? That nothing I say or do is expectable in the means of this corrupt society?
I’m standing here leather incased booted feet in the deep frozen snow. Standing alone in the vast darkness of the Canadian wilderness, the only lights for miles on end are the neon beer signs from the grotesque looking bar just a few feet away. A bar filled with crude men and the ever constant barflies who are only out tonight because there looking for a good fuck.
If I stay perfectly still I can feel my sense picking up on my surroundings. I can smell that dreadful stench of beer and stale smoke coming from the constant opening and closing of the bar’s rotting door. I can feel the rumble of the announcer’s voice as he announces the beginning of the attraction to night. I can already taste the copper twinge in mouth from the blood that I know will surely come from one those said attractions.
I almost feel the dirty and sweaty flesh under my covered skin from this distance alone. Bring forth an image of almost lustful proportions and I think it’s from years of keeping covered in layers of cotton and silk.
I start to walk against my own violation of course, but I could already start to feel the damp snow seeping into my pant legs. Sending involuntary shivers up my entire body as I trudge through the ever thickening snow towards the wayward looking tavern.
It’s as if I am possessed by some unseen being as I make my way through the crowded bar. I watch them all as if there like ants in a glass case. Men laughing and jeering at the metal contraption in the center of the dingy room, women seemed unable to remove themselves from it. And I, like a moth to flame stare transfixed at the men. Past the chain link fencing and the billows of smoke coming from the cage groupies. I stare openly with no embarrassment at the human like creature before me.
His wild mane of hair so perfectly fixed in that animalistic point makes me quiver from the bar stool I know occupy. His remarkable bare chest heaving in all its masculine glory was like a sight for sore eyes.
I continued my evaluation with an articulate eye. One I my self probably never possessed but maybe it is just from one of the many people clambering up inside of me who does it. A willing in devour I am short to stop.
The announcer is back at the microphone the crowd is still heckling like dogs as he hushes them with his booming voice. Solidifying the atmosphere with his loud and coarse voice as the crowd awaits the next blood thirsty fight.
“….the Wolverine….,” is all I can hear as I watch him take a drag from his cigar. The smoke tendrils giving him an even more animalistic quality that I have never deemed my self fit for liking, not until this moment that is.
I look on in anticipation as the other unimportant opponent enters the cage that they have so ironically put this creature of a man into. He places his cigar down onto the simple stool and throws back what I presume to be whiskey down that marvelous throat of his. But he stops and turns slowly as if he is smells the air, but it could just be a trick of the light.
As I stare I don’t even realize his hard golden eyes are staring directly at me. Like a hunter and his prey. It’s unnerving to say the least but I don’t remove my eye sight from his. And in that moment the cheering crowd and the stifling smoke seems to stand on end as our gaze locks in that ethereal moment.
His attention is diverted from me as the large meaty fist of his opponent strikes out and hits that scruffy face. And with a shake of that shaggy head of his the fight is on and I am forever sent to the back of his mind. Forever lost in the dark abyss of that horror filled mind of his.
Or so I think.
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