Monday 12 March 2012

Schizomilk 3

Jamie woke me up for breakfast, well, he stood up with his feet near my head and I stroked his index toe and nuzzled against his sock.

It was gray and most likely the previous owner of my beautiful ring bought it for him, so I just sit up and I watch him ignore me as he makes coffee, toast with marmalade and leaves the marmalade on the table for me to get and I get a small spoonful of the grape marmalade and smile at him, Jamie doesn’t.

“They’ll find her body, Alison.” He says and I find it funny and I laugh, the spoon falling from my mouth and actually, I find it hilarious and the spoon makes a sound which clashes with my laughter and causes Jamie to close his eyes and I take his hand and stroke it against my palm.

“No they won’t. I love you.” And my eyes should be bright as my hair and I no longer have to keep it blonde or pink, I can dye it back and throw those clothes, the linear Kate suggested.

Where the fuck is the kid?

But then she goes to her father at this time of day and week, so I just smile, it is Jamie’s problem and I am here to grasp everything which can come on our path and the ring just proves my strength as I managed to slay the dragon and I am wearing it’s scale.

Jamie turns on the television, Teletubbies dance around the ashes of Moss, people identifying the whore, the slut, the thing and I just try to high five Jamie, but he doesn’t.

I grab his cheek, pulling him, so that he looks scared so I put his head on my shoulder, my hair now back and I smile at him, my yesterday’s linear now my black fang from my bottom lip.

“I love you.” I say and I bite his cheek, Jamie just looks at me and starts crying. I think I hear clicks at the door.

Jamie has an alibi, but I don’t, so he tells me to head of into a door, this door in the wall, this room between the houses where he puts my desk and I go there on the rug and I smile at the markers and the food he brought in and I feel the smell of glue and how the hours pass, even if I ask him to pass the sugar for my second and third cup of tea as I think of his cock.

I pull the rug over me, as I sit in the room’s chair and it is cozy with his randomly chosen books, which I poke with my boot, before taking the boot out and I like home, because I am a gift, which Jamie is going to unwrap.

I hear the people outside, all care about Kate and not my new ring.

“I HAVE THE RING!” I yell loud and bang my fists against the wall, but no one hears, there is still the talk of Kate

Kate

Kate

No Alison

So I sit back in my chair and I take a red marker to draw the sky on the walls, Jamie you and me are in a field and I smile at all the stars and I want to hug them all and I stretch out my arms for all the love to fit in.

I give them names and when I believe is my bedtime I go to sleep, saying goodnight to all, doing another round and saying sweet dreams and I mumble the sleep tight to my sleep.

Jamie doesn’t go into my room the next day, so I try to save up food and I stopped screaming as the beloved cannot hear me.

I wish we would have sex under the television reports of Katie’s death. I wish I would have been naked, his tongue shoved up inside me as deep as his cock.

I wonder.

They won’t open.

So I take the red marker, open it, and stick the tip inside me to draw stars on the inner me, make me more appealing, more beautiful as I stroke my clit and stick the marker inner, in and out, knowing that Jamie would be doing that to me in the couch and then his face.

I’ve seen him come with Kate once, I barged into their room, Kate on fours, faking and Jamie’s face before he fell on the chair body of a model and kissed her back. He was never pissed for me barging on them, he ignored it and smiled at me. Jamie started having secrets from me, once he learned that I had mine.

I blurred out that I loved him, he was told and then that one little evidence of me never telling him and denying it up to the point that my bones shook and danced under his presence and my own denial, lies.

I stick the marker out and my bear is here, so I snuggle against little Jamie, I told Jamie his name was James, but it’s not it’s Jamie.

I draw a bookshelf with a green marker and I sit against it when I read Welsh, which was given and I draw some polka dots on the floor and I draw a little me in a dress and a little Jamie with long hair, not us, because we wouldn’t be together as us.

I light a cigarette, knowing that the smoke will stay and get the hair out of my eyes, drawing flowers on the tip as it burns their life away and I smile, even getting the green onto my lips and kissing the long haired Jamie and licking myself in a dress.

Jamie doesn’t come on the third day as well, the second was me sleeping, knowing that he would wake me up, but he brings me pancakes as I sleep and takes the bear, I’ve seen it just to put it back.

Thing is, there was a struggle, but I’ve killed it, but once I’m here what’s the point of taking me, when I’m his and I always was his?

Schizomilk 4

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