Diaries of Another Summer (8)

She was eighteen, I was fourteen,
All I had were dreams;
Damn, those were confusing visions,
With recurrent themes —

I felt tortured every night.
I’d try to get some rest:
There she was, then, on the beach,
And I just felt possessed.

Images and strange new feelings;
Latency and double dealings,
Sonia smiling down at me,
That was perfect misery.

Fear that follows like a sickness,
Puberty’s a sorry business.
Tortured visions, out of reach —
Sonia, smiling, on the beach.

I was fourteen, reaching desperate;
I was short on clues —
Damn, it was bewildering,
Although, back then, ’twas news

How nights were made for boys to suffer
Sights they can’t avoid:
Then our awkward first essayings,
Girls just get annoyed.

Images and strange new feelings;
Hours, looking up at ceilings,
Sonia smiling down at me,
That was perfect misery.

Fear that follows fear with swiftness,
Puberty’s a sorry business.
Tortured visions, out of reach —
Sonia, smiling, on the beach.

Teenage passions poured in streams:
Sonia, laughing, in
My dreams

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

2 thoughts on “Diaries of Another Summer (8)”

  1. crummy world-14 is when i almost got raped. If one can use the word “almost” for such an assault by an older man. i drove him off by a no-holds-barred fight. The experience and my subsequent summons to the police line up to identify the man left me permanently psychologically scarred.
    Would you know: i was transplanting day lilies in a public park when it happened. In an upper crust white collar Boston suburb.-crummy world.
    i don’t know why i am publishing this except that my heart bleeds for all the unloved, mistreated adolescents in our world.
    Holly

    Liked by 1 person

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