How pretty you were. If there was a stereotype for Puerto Rican queens, you were it. Your lovely black locks, beautiful olive skin, almond eyes, ever-ready smile and musical laughter. Unbeknownst to you, I fell for you at first sight.

 

 

I remember when I first saw you. We were at a party (of a mutual friend) and your beauty caught my eye. Oh, how exotic and beautiful you looked on that hot summer night. The sound of Puerto Rican music (playing in the background), you and your smile just lighting the place up. You were the center of attraction, the prettiest girl there. The fact that you were the most naive girl there did not escape me either. I saw that and I took advantage. I wanted you and had to have you. You had on a flower printed dress that was almost too short and a real flower in your hair. I was amazed on how you pulled off a look like that. It was your personality, magnetic, gregarious and most sensual that made you the star of that party. All the men there wanted to talk to you. They all wanted you but only I would have you.

 

 

I remember all of the dancing and drinking we did.

 

 

I remember smoking weed (marijuana) with you.

 

 

I remember how sexy you looked.

 

 

I remember seducing you.

 

 

I remember taking you to a room apart from the party.

 

 

I remember your first time (making love), as you gave yourself to me.

 

 

I remember how sweet you tasted, how beautiful you looked to me in all your nakedness,

 

 

I remember how lovingly you looked at me

 

 

and then... I remember turning you on to crack.

 

 

 

My lovely Delilah, what have I done to you?

 

 

 

I also remember me leaving our city on my motorcycle in an attempt get my life together.

I left with the promise of returning to you.I was running from addiction and self. You see, I started to see someone in the mirror that I did not like. I thought that by simply leaving I could get my life back. I did not realize that I was also taking the problem with me, namely myself.  

 

While I was away, you continued to be my girl.

 

 

I guess just like all of us, you replayed in your mind the euphoric love making we engaged in. Of all the sensations of that night only one was available to you in a glass vial. The one sensation I showed you. You started to experiment. You liked it, unwittingly you now had started the clock on what would be your "end of days."

 

 

My lovely Delilah, what have I done to you?

 

 

After two years I returned, started to look for you in the old neighborhood only to hear disturbing things about you. I hoped that what they were saying about you was wrong. It was not, I soon saw you selling your self on the strip. You no longer looked as I remembered you. Your face was somewhat skeletish. Your hair was greasy looking and your clothes were simply draped on your now bony body. You were no longer my girl. You now belonged to the streets and "Crack".

 

 

My lovely Delilah, what have I done to you?

 

 

I watched you from the shadows, crushed and very sorry for you. I knew I did this to you. Had I never introduced you to this hell, you would still be here, alive. My lovely Delilah, can you ever forgive me, because I cannot.

 

 

 I remain in Hell, I will suffer here in this life and most assuredly in the hereafter.

They say that only the good die young. If that is true, then I am immortal.

 

My Lovely most precious Delilah.

 

 

I still see your pretty smile and hear your melodious laugh, at night, in my dreams. I awake late at night and sometimes I cry. I cry for you and all of those poor souls marionetted by this lifestyle.

I cry for myself because you trusted me!

Delilah, know that I will always remember and love you.

 

 

Oh my Lovely Delilah, what have I done?

 

 

Delilah contracted AIDS and passed, while I was away (again) running from myself.

I bear her cross, a cross that I can barely carry. I ruined a beautiful person. I unwittingly gave her to the night.

I wish I could take it all back