The Stranger In A Helmet


To the stranger in a helmet,
The one I can’t forget
Not for the romantic reasons, no.
If that were the case, I’d start with dear.
You’re anything but my hero.
You’re my worst fears come true.

I drive by thay street everyday,
I’m left no choice, I live two streets down.
And every time I see that corner,
The one you stood on, your bike parked, your gaze wandering,
I look around.
I try to spot every man holding a helmet, perched on a bike.
I wonder if it’s you.
If he remembers me.
If he’d say it again in broad daylight.
Does he know?
Does he know what he did?
Does he know why he shouldn’t have?
Does he know I still hear his voice in the back of my head and feel a chill run down my spine?
“Madam. Madam.” Every time?
Does he know that he hid in the dark, his face covered because his instinct told him it was wrong?
Does he know I’m judging him when it maybe wasn’t him at all?
Because I do.
Every man I see looks guilty.
Even the innocent.
That’s what you’ve done.
“Madam. Madam..” like a helpless man. I shouldn’t have turned.
Should’ve known you’re helping yourself.
But I was taught and raised to be nice to the lost.
Yet, as you stood,
Your hands on your pants, your mouth asking for mine,
I was glad it was me and my little sister had walked a few feet.
Imagine a table turned.
For being taught kindness,
She won’t judge that innocent man,
She’d fear.
Because of you.

How difficult life would be.
As long as she lives, she’ll never trust.
Afraid of eyes, even the ones filled with love.
Yet, how easy it will be,
For you’ll forever live in peace.
Hidden behind a helmet
At 7pm, in the middle of the city
On a lonely street.
Just your voice echoing, “Suck me please.”

5 thoughts on “The Stranger In A Helmet

  1. phonynonie says:

    Your writing touches a raw nerve… It’s haunting. What you’ve described is something which is happening all around us, unabashedly, unabatedly… in some form or the other. Not just at the hand of strangers, even own house, your own don’t seem trustworthy, at times.

    One such true incident with someone close precipitated in me penning it down in the form of a ballad titled “Numb”. I’m placing the link here; have a look:-

  2. Stylograph says:

    Your writings are very heart touching….i just sense it…you can make readers to actually ponder the situation and to get their hearts out with emotions….i wish people would understand that we are not toys to play with..atleast have some humanity left within you…these “animals” are not sparing a lil child these days….shame on them…a child of 8 months getting rapped? Are you serious! She is a baby…but no…they dont care…as if they dont gave feelings inside them…
    Really strong words….

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