Friday, 30 March 2012

What Difference Does It Make

I wake up with a bruised lip, blood managing to achieve my chin.

And there is a pain at the back of my head that if I touch it gently it aches as if I am getting head at the back of the head again and again a slower pain reaction comes after a second, as if splitting the pleasure of reminding me of a hit I cannot recall.

Did I sleep?

I don’t recall even getting to bed, maybe all I did was walk in and it felt like sleep already, when you have an all nighter you just getv the day on the night being another life already.

I just head over to the kitchen just silently, not switching the television and feeling my eye go purple as if there had also been a fight just know, maybe I was being flung across the carpet just know and in a second my arm will be broken.

By the time I have breakfast and eat my toast there is no blood anymore instead I have the blue patches of my body fighting against the pain.

I drink more cold water feeling the dizzyness of a hangover but there is no alcohol in my mind, so I just flick through the channels seeing Paul’s mobile luying on the floor and I pick it up just to see the wallpaper and I try finding Paul’s number in his mobile to call him but instead I stop, realizing how and where my thoughts go and just either break or wander off.

I feel like I am being watched and maybe my hangover and the bruises are being laughed upon by the ceiling, the walls would be a bit too usual, so I make more coffee to just stare at the ceiling back and I end up smiling recalling yesterday’s or today’s music.

I recall all three of us laughing, her hair pink and bleached on the top, showing messiness was gone and it had gone back to a good deep pink but I just didn’t say anything, Paul was the one who kept saying that it had looked good, as I just looked at his new shirt and wanted to say how I liked how skinny it were but instead I just kept drinking.

That made sense.

I just lulled my pain with a bit alcohol, but still seemed.

I could’ve also lulled the physical pain after that hit Paul had given me after all of a sudden I just didn’t hold and pulled him away for a cigarette, lighting his nearly close to his lips if I can’t get those lips, let the fire burn them, I might’ve gone too agressive and perhaps hit Paul without saying anything.

Maybe Alison hurled me from Paul.

Maybe I yelled something else and tripped on the pavement admiring the black hole night, which didn’t even think of sucking me in to the other side where I would just not live or just not do anything concrete, most likely I would have just not hit Paul and that would’ve been it.

Most likely.

And he threw the mobile on my floor so that nothing would ruining an evening.

Only it had been my floor and I had been the burnt cheese on marmalde toast.

That sounded odd, the toast.

I make more toast and flicked through channels, waiting for the now couple to pick the lost mobile device.

Alison picked it up eventually, smiling as she left.


Sorry for the delay I ended up sleeping half the way xD Here it is, sorry, I just had in mind doing a Paul/Alison/Daniel in a while. Yes, I love Alison so that's why I stick here nearly everywhere really xD sorry about that:3

I hope you enjoyed it and I realized I've been leaving places for sequels everywhere, so uh feel free? xD

Thank you and sorry for the wait <3

What Difference Does It Make2

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Humming Television Set3

Sleep escapes me too easily today as I keep turning on the bed, rolling over onto my stomach, putting on my glasses, maybe to see the dark better and then I take them off, glancing quickly at what I believe is Daniel’s sleeping figure, his back turned to me.

Then he shifts in his sleep facing me and I wonder would the dark be the third man closing our stares and being the gossiping matchmaker, but after a while I think I see his closed eyelids.

I want to go in that bed or even move the both of them, kiss him briefly or even not but just sleep besides him, him being something like a heated hoodie.

I end up sitting up on the bed, Daniel not moving, clearly he had stolen my sleep both literally and not as I flick the lights on. He doesn’t move.

His t-shirt is flung aside. I hope he didn’t catch any flu or anything.

I don’t touch him.

I just don’t have a third party to cover up my staring and his closed eyes start to irritate me.

I want him up.

I want Daniel for heaven’s sake.

My hands are now on his shoulders.

I want you up.

“W-what?” He mumbles, pushing my hands awake but I give him another shake, this time harder as his eyes seem blurry and under the daze of dreams, unknown to both of us most likely now forgotten by the stress of getting torn away.

“What?” He asks again, closing his eyes back after glancing around for a bit, making sure that everything fits how it were in his memory.

“I want beer.” I don’t even want beer, I want you, but it’s not the best thing to say is it? So he just doesn’t even open his eyes.

“Order it, Paul.” He yawns and I just slide the covers a bit down exposing his neck. Daniel opens his eyes and I just stare at his collarbone. My fingers touch his shoulder and he is just staring at me a bit pale, not moving, sleep gone forever.

I stroke his shoulder again and then Daniel sits up, looking at me.

I look down at his chest and my hands are back on my knees and I want to lean in

so badly

and kiss him

just once but for a longer while than I’ll ever imagine and maybe nap with him or just share the bed to let the thoughts wander off in a dream to forget and get some coffees in the morning.

“I can’t sleep.” I say, looking down, trying to scrap off the lust off my face and I just smile.

“You should’ve said so.” And Daniel orders two beers, maybe so we’d hold from touching each other knowing that someone might come in.

It feels like he can kiss me too.

We drink the beers and flick through a magazine together, discussing new movies, my chin on his shoulders and for a brief second I think he kissed my hair.


I'm trying to hold them:D They nearly kissed in this chapter, holding holding XD I have no idea why am I torturing them too XD

I hope you enjoyed it :D

<3 Humming Television Set4

Wednesday, 28 March 2012


Vodka nulls the dreams.

Sometimes reality.

Until you drink another doze again to forget certain images which flash in the mind, flesh on flesh, divided by flesh, a threesome on the edge of sodomy back when me and Nicky were struggling if we wanted girls or not, managing to sneak back home on a break with a bottle for the two of us.

And we sat watching television, flicking through channels vodka nulling the mind just like it does now and I have managed to stop hearing the party going on this monday and the crap music and all the sex they have.

Sex is depressing.

There is no feeling of being a man all you do is release fluid to make a baby.

I start shaking recalling how my sister walked to us downstairs and Nicky would keep singing her name and she sat between us and we could both see her bra.

She tried vodka with us.

Wire took off his shirt and was jumping around the house, waking ourselves up before giving us the bottle.

“Rich, we’re out.” And I wobbled to get vodka from a friend of Nicky’s who lived a block away, explaining who was I and I had been bright red, but I wanted the booze, I had too much on my mind, thinking how to get my roommate to stop bringing girls over early in the morning, thinking that if he did that late that would disturb me even more.

I nudged the door back and Rachel was lying in Nicky’s lap.

“Are you a virgin, Richey?” Rachel laughs.

“No.” I say softly, taking a cigarette from a laying on the floor box and the rug is now my kingdom. I exhale the cigarette smoke, trying to concentrate on it erasing my thoughts of blood stains on the corridor walls, leading me to think what if there were a muder.

I’d be a victim.

I’d just be stabbed in the back or even killed by a toaster.

I’d be dead.

“Neither am I.” Rachel says motioning with her hands to give her a fag.

I lean down and give her mine through my lips and then Nicky says how good looking we are. I just lean my head sideways to see Nick, who leans closer to both of us and he kisses me, just briefly on the lips.

“I love you, Rich.” And then he touches Rachel’s breast, sticking his tongue in my mouth. Rachel’s hands go on Nicky’s zipper and she unzips them revealing Nicky’s erection and a bit faded blue boxers.

“Kiss your sister. That should be sexy.” And he laughs as he nudges us and Rachel kisses me on the lips, her hands now going down my torso. I shiver, pulling away, scared of a taboo even if I have no religion but I stick my tongue in her mouth.

Vodka will null me.

I take the bottle and take a gulp, coughing before Wire takes off his underwear and deals with Rachel’s dress.

I don’t understand if I am turned on or not, but we make out, all three of us, all sexually frustrated and Rachel

fuck is she still underage?


Wire slides down her underwear and positions his cock at her entrance.

“I always wanted to fuck you, ma’am.” And he thrusts slowly in, cupping her breasts as Rachel smiles and arches her back. I just drink watching Wire penetrate my sister as I starts touching myself.

Her mouth is open too wide.


I slide my cock inside her mouth, stroking her face.

Suck, sister, suck. I say it or whisper, thrusting harder and harder she gags once so
I stop thrusting as hard, instead, slower and teasing as she strokes the base of my cock.

I stroke her face and Wire comes slowly afterwards and I’m still here, drinking vodka as she sucks me off.

She suggests anal and soon enough after the mere thought I come in her mouth.

Wire makes Rachel come by his mouth, grateful for cheap actually free sex with my sister?

We sit watching night television naked until I am lulled enough by the alcohol to fall asleep on the couch naked and then get dragged into my room, most likely by them both so that I won’t dream.

I finish the bottle.

I don’t dream or think either.


Richey Edwards would be one of my idols and people who fascinate me for a long while and one thing which really pisses me off is how people judge him for whatever for the prostitute interview for instance, which is the best interview I've ever read with his honesty.

People do it.

And in the end no cares about and he just said the truth without a single lie.

I just love Richey a lot and he had influenced me in many ways, my writing and Richard: the novel was very disappointing, for instance missing a lot of facts for instance Richey's sexuality or his relationship with Wire, I'm not just someone who believes that they shagged and had babies. No. I don't think they ever did if being fully honest and closing my fangirlism but for fuck's sake they had tension, you can't just fucking throw that away or the fact that Richey was seen kissing men?

The request had been a drunk Richey/Nicky/Rachel.

The whole vodka thing, well, Richey was an alcoholic and it all started from-

Ok, I know I even talk basic facts, but I quite like it that was used to lull him to sleep which eventually became a habit.

What I'm sad is that in reality I don't think we'll be able to crack Richey and for fuck's sake he didn't commit suicide, too much things against it and Richey was never ever weak.

He was the human we all are, just unlike everyone he decided to be sensitive about it and escape.

Thank you

<3 Chain Smoking

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Humming Television Set2

When you ride in the morning you have a more sort of dreamlike stance and the plain sign that says your destination is enough sometimes.

Daniel ends up trying to daze off, saying numerous times that he will, trying on the windowsill, but in the end he gives up and tries my shoulder, making himself comfortable, his stubble being quite soft and even if it weren’t I wouldn’t mind that much. I expect the bus to go by that road with the music stores and past the embassies, but it doesn’t. I watch it turn and stop near a hotel, slowly counting to ten before nudging Daniel to wake up, he doesn’t, so I shake him a bit.

“Daniel!” He mumbles something.

“Daniel!” He mumbles something even quieter and just keeps on stroking my neck with his stubble. I tap him on his shoulder and the idea of dragging us both out from the bus occurs until we make a turn and we don’t get to see all the fancy streets, instead we are a bust stop away from our destination.

Daniel ends up waking up on his own or rather by the sudden stop due to the street lights, his head jerking straight before his eyes are right in front of mine, asking me what is what before he blinks and gains consciousness.

The thought of kissing Daniel Kessler had indeed occurred before and the moment with what maybe if pulled exactly at a needed point would have had me getting away with it with kiss number one ticked in my head, just leaving a perhaps telling the band member behind.

Instead he blinks, the thing he mumbled is now louder, but I still don’t hear it, wondering if the bus would do another turn.


I decided that I want it to be a set of really short stories, vignettes which are in a linear line and yeah:3 about Paul and Daniel:D

I hope you enjoyed it and you like the chosen format, feel free to request further chapters, one request is one chapter, I guess xD since I want this to be longer than usual, quite enjoyable :3 and I like their tension :3 One chapter request at a time:3

Actually the thing happened to me today, I've been basing my stories on the city I live in lately, dunno, if it's too noticeable xD or annoying XD sorry if it is. I took the wrong bus, I like longer rides and it just trimmed the route in a weird way, making me quite sad and a bit nervous because the turn seemed to be far away from my location, which ended being one block from the short route -.-

Thank you:3

<3 Humming Television Set3

Monday, 26 March 2012


“She wasn’t that much of a pretty woman, was she?” And I light a cigarette, as Jamie’s head is in my lap.

“Fuck no.” As he looks at me the eyes covered by shades and licks his ice cream, the park covered in bonfire smoke. Jamie’s smoke matches the rest of the bonfire smoke after a while as he watches it and takes out a gun to press it against my forehead, I grab his hand, pulling the gun down, but he keeps it straight on my forehead.

He fires, the gun pulled a bit away, the serious face still held and bubbles come out of it. And then he laughs and I pull his cigarette away from him, as he hands out some candy in a paper bag and I take a few, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“I need glasses.” I say, sitting up and then going back to the grass, as Jamie stands up and kicks my feet slightly, the gun and the hand behind his ear as he keeps letting bubbles out of it in order not to scare people but people seem to hug from the smoke to notice and he gives me his sunglasses for now, what I think is a brief moment but we walk past a few blocks, not saying a word, before he turns around and kisses me, tongue in and I grin at the sudden kiss, haven’t been getting a lot these days and then he gets the shades back, telling me about this nice store he’d seen in town, so we walk there, buying some cold coffee and sharing it with a few coins we had from somewhere, not using the stolen credit cards on something as simple.

We walk in a few stores, I pretend not to like the shades and in a close we sit against the wall for a bit, smoking, pulling on Bonnie and Clyde masks, kissing each other with the masks and going north towards the store or rather one simple turn and Jamie has two guns now, on the bubble gun one, one real as he scares the assistants with the bubble one as I take some free candy and choose a few shades in the end I get three, one pair being too big.

Jamie empties the till and takes a ladies’ purse.

We head out or rather run out, back into the close, behind a door, standing close.

I hear him and the sirens.

And I wonder which ice cream will we buy with the stolen coins.

Jamie ruffles my hair, as I feel the smell of old food in the trash bins, so I nudge him for us to leave this place, in new clothing, my hair up and make up on both, just a bit and walk out.

I follow him, watching his back, letting him go a bit ahead, maybe to observe the women he likes.

I might be younger, but shouldn’t men go for younger women?

I scrub off his face paint as I come near him and he just looks at me silently as the festival’s long gone, months gone and we look like we just came out of it, my new shades the hem of my shirt and I fiddle, nervously, looking up and then down as he hugs me, gets rid of the ladies’ bag in another close, as we both sit, thinking if we should go on a tour with the coins or use the cards, faking signatures at lunch.

And choosing the right place with strawberries squeezed out with bananas and writing complaints on napkins is what we do with today, being no exception, Jamie whispering it, chucking to himself, a grown man and I feel older than him today even with the wrinkles drawn on both of our faces, which we tend to do, sometimes, saying that we will grow old together and eventually get married-

“Let’s get rings and marry.” I tell him, as he keeps writing.

“Let’s keep us low.” He tells me, no longer chuckling or smiling.

I lower my head to see his eyes, but he keeps writing, even plain letters now, not saying anything to me or the waitress who asks if he wants another beer or if I want another milkshake, in the end we both shake our heads.

“Let’s marry.” I say again. “She got killed-”

“That’s why I won’t marry.” He says and raises his eyes, playing with a random ring, apparently he got today on his finger.

“Yet you still married her.” I say, a bit coldly, taking his beer bottle and trying to get something out of the empty space, but I don’t even get foam.

“I needed a shag.” He says and we start leaving the small cafe with the coins being our payment and Jamie yanks the cigarette box out of my bag as I watch him fail to light teh cigarette a few times up to the point that I do it for him, near his lips, considering of feeding the red mouth to the fire and he leans back just in case and inhales, too deep, that he gives out a light cough, running a hand through his hair.

“We shagged.” He flinches.

“Even on your honeymoon, you needed that guitar and you fucking pulled me into a closet, not caring about anything.” I hiss slightly, taking away his cigarette and he just stares into the ground, maybe counting all the times we shagged or all the times he declined or maybe all the times we robbed stores.

He sighs.

“We need to keep a low profile.” Jamie looks down.

“You promised.” I say.

“I did.” Jamie replies, taking off the ring which was on his pinkie.

“And?” I say to which he gives me the ring.

“Low profile.”


It was supposed to end halfway, but then I decided that I guess I want to go back to my longer stories, to have a little read, like a short story everywhere, really, so I hope you really enjoyed it and the idea was in my mind since it were the weekend, I just walked around town until I stopped at a close and I had the idea of using it later on.

I hope you enjoyed it and apparently it's the second time I've killed Kate Moss :c

<3 Close 2

Sunday, 25 March 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 7

She baked me pancakes and had a few frozen or rather straight warmed up strawberries and sat opposite me with her newly bleached hair and I ate the strawberries alone.

She said she hat eaten before, smoking a cigarette, striking a match before it, her lighter out and after some crawling on the floor we found a box of matches yesterday and kissed again.

I understood her point, it had been reasonable that after a few months of dating I stayed over at hers, among the acrylic and oil paint scattered and even her bras in the specific colouring and smell as I made love to her.

Love was too vague of a word as we kissed and made love again.

I didn’t come until the afternoon, Alison attempting to knock and standing on my doorstep, hood pulled up and nails were dyed black this time, a bit neat, but still she had her ring finger smudged as we drank tea in silence, Alison not bothering to ask where I had been and I didn’t bother, wanting a drink early in the afternoon, to which we had no money, but my girlfriend had, so I could just shift to hers, but instead I stayed, not saying anything to a jealous and a bit teary eyed Alison.

“We could go out.” Alison said as the guitar seemed too distant and my girlfriend’s suggestion stroke a brief topic of me telling Alison that I had found a studio and we both smiled.

I stroked her hand and she leaned to kiss me.

She sat on my lap and stared at me from above.

I took a sip of tea.

Alison jumped straight off, leaving the kitchen and using the television as an escape.

There was a prom on television.

A fucking school prom, I just remember being drunk on mine, inviting some girl but after a day deciding that it should be better if I’ll recall it as doing it to get drunk, the booze was cheap and filling so I remember someone passing two joints of different content and I got a few drag from one and a mixture of the cheap drinks, causing me to not see the prom and feel the floor and sometimes people would lift me up to see if I were alive or not and then dumping me back on the floor.

“Did you ever have a prom?” I ask her, knowing that she dropped out, but the question came out anyway and Alison just shook her head, sighting a bit.

I’ve seen her watching different movies, a few years old as I had been dragged out once by a girl but the content still seemed the same. I sat besides her.

“Yeah, I guess, I want one.” Alison said, leaning her head against the sofa.

“Anyone to invite you?” I asked, pressing myself deeper into the one of the two old pillows.

I remember my age and I remember hers and then I run a hand through my hair. My prom was long ago, while hers was avoided not so long ago.

“No. Maybe. Someone from the band.” And her shoulders try to cover her body and I don’t move, getting myself into the kitchen and just pouring water, seeing her hug me from behind in my head but I don’t know what love is anymore as I have no feelings for either and I gulp the water down, thinking of tomorrow how the bleached girl will throw paint on the canvas and how I will feel as if every time it will be my face when we’ll break up for no reason whatsoever and I will come back in paint and Alison will just give me soap and we’ll use the art studio tomorrow.

I tell that Alison, everything, besides the break up, she writes good sad lines.

So in the morning we depart, sitting opposite of each other in the train and I make faces at her, as she reads the free newspaper showing me articles of raped women, men and children and cute photos of polar bears. I tear out a photo of a polar bear looking into the camera, lick the back of it and stick it onto Alison’s forehead.

Maybe it’s a brotherly bond, I think, watching the stations become short advertisements with the sharp dressed people as they shift into more poor looking regions and the polar bear has to be licked from the other side again and I take the hair out of her eyes.

She thinks it to be a love gesture.

We take over the studio and I get paint thrown at my face at the end of the day for Alison being a girl and not lesbian.


I think Jamie might be a bit harsh, but I think he had a fallout, well I think through out their entire - ok, I'll stop, because then I'll be spilling my point of view and the story further on, won't I? XD :3

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you


Saturday, 24 March 2012

Used Lighter

She wraps herself with a worn out polka dot cloth I saw her buy yesterday, walking into the store, a bit wobbling, with a burnt out cigarette, not saying anything and paying with coins. I tried to smile at her and instead she just left the store.

I walk on, back trying to get to the bus stop on time and she sits there with a cigarette dangling unlit in her mouth, her lips smeared with a red substance and a sign lying at her feet.

A hobo for blood.

And she looks at me with drunken with sweet taste eyes.

I light her cigarette and she laughs inhaling, taking my hand.

I snatch out my hand, rubbing my neck and staring at her, how neat her clothes are today and how a few coins build a circle around her and how the clouds scattered above the sky, covering all evidence of sunlight and I don’t think crosses scare her, as a girl walks by with a massive cross, dangling on her neck.

I leave her, walking onto the bus stop.

In the morning there are three girls in the line to donate blood to the starving and a television set.

She sucks on the girl’s blood, her eyes rolled up in ecstasy as the TV presenter asks her name.

She sucks gently.

Her age.

“I’m forty three.” But she looks like she’s in her early twenties.

They ask how she was born and why this way.

“My mother got pregnant.” Implying that both were vampires and she says she has a home, a little flat with paper angles hanging around like Christmas decorations as her cigarette is lit by me again and the second girl gives her the blood, as she sucks just as gently, stopping when asked and leaning her head against the bars.

I look at the girl, how sweaty her hair is and she says that she was running on the bus to get here on time.

She said people threw beer bottles at her.

I crossed the road, just to sit on the grass, not to watch the new part of the city, but her, from a distance, the remaining of my lighter left for her to enjoy later, as the grass ringed my fingers as I dug it deeper, watching the harmless modern vampire.

I should go into my store, but I don’t, imaging the few scattered people and workers ranting, since I have the only key as the last two, all on blue strings were bought away for five quid by the new shop assistant and after a round of beers, which was the money to get the keys, I being in charge got left with the key.

I stare at her.

I want her to come in today.

I walk on my side of the road, silently, using the last light in my lighter to raise my thoughts as the city has a smoke cloud hanging over it, tinting the old streets in an old brown, as people scatter with the few tourists and some are drunk at the beginning of a dull friday.

No one says anything as I open the store and one customer grabs the hat they didn’t buy yesterday and three other men stay for ten minutes each browsing the leather jackets, as my hands play with the bracelets in the accessories box and I look up to see the wedding dresses, she should be single and I press my head against the desk, feeling the stripes of the other shop assistants lure my eyes as they take the money from the consumers and I see the vampire buy some ring and a sweater and put it on instantly and I raise my eyes.

“Hi.” I say to her after she pays.

The vampire smiles and leaves the store.

I don’t follow her until I have lunch break and I wander off into her street and I sit besides her, maybe being the second vampire, she leans in to kiss me and touch my lips, but the gazes are held.

“Donate?” She asks, looking at my lips.

She bites them slightly and I give out a gentle moan, as her teeth pierce my lips.

There is no kiss or tongue interaction just my eyes looking at hers and how she holds my hands in hers. And plasters a bandaid over my lips.

She strokes my cheeks.

“I want your blood.” The vampire says and tears off my bandaid and I pull a bit away, the blood trickling up to my chin. She pulls me towards her and then with eyes closed applies the bandaid again.

Her nails start digging into my cheeks as she presses a full kiss on my lips, sucking the blood, sometimes letting my tongue wander.

“Name?” She asks pulling me closer, chests pressed and knees locked as I let my hands wander down, giving pleasure for both.

“Jamie.” I say and she pulls me to my feet as she licks the blood every time it trickles down as we walk further on, into the store, which is closed for a break, she takes out the key from my neck and inserts it into the lock, exposing all the used cloth and wedding gowns like the heavens above with their vain white.

She pulls one down just to see my reaction and presses it against her body, the lace quite transparent and then takes off her shirt as she bites the lips harder as I feel the numb ache.

“I felt my teeth numb, when they grew. I’m Alison.” And she lets her hands underneath my shirt.

Alison pulls my lip, biting it from the inside as I feel my feet starting to wobble and she lays me on the wedding gown, taking crosses down from a skirt, ties the cross to my key, locks the door, uses the wedding gowns as curtains to shield my death, as my lips bleed harder and my hands are weak to touch her breasts.

“You should’ve donated fast.” And the vampires eyes are too red.

As the bites my neck harder, pulling my hand towards her and her kisses to me are now seen from above and she becomes a blur with the heavens, her wide red eyes open as she keeps sucking the light out of me, as my hands grab her waist once more and I try to kiss back as she strokes me between my legs, tracing my neck with her nails to lick more blood from inside me.

She puts the veil over my face.

A last pleasure as we kiss.


I had the idea of calling it Black Balloon, but the lighter was quite a symbolic image in this case for Jamie's life.

The idea came to me on the street where Alison sits, actually and the store was a store I was in today, a bit changed, just the idea of writing about a vintage store came to mind and I don't think I saw any polka dot cloth or rings there and mashing up the two ideas came to mind as I was struggling that I couldn't think of a good developed idea.

Yes, it wasn't a bus this time XD :3

I hope you enjoyed it and sorry for the light delay and thank you:3


Used Lighter2

Thursday, 22 March 2012

You Make The Cherries Go Sour

Her eyes look a bit too hungry sometimes, even when I choose the cherries, not too many, but enough to keep the advertisement breaks occupied.

I take more and for a few seconds she watches me before she approaches me and she takes my hair out of my eyes, making a ponytail and I just stare at her, smiling a bit, as if we’d be naked and I’d be insecure.

“Hey.” Alexa says a bit too softly and just as hungry, her breathing becoming a heavy achievement for her and I just wonder at which colour was the band which she tied my hair with and I smile. “What are you doing?”

“Cherries. Hey.” And she starts taking some as well, her whole body giving out the tension and I just don’t do anything as she would do everything.

And her lips are cherry red and I tell her that and she says the colour she actually choose and has on would be something with another name, so we just wait for a few people to pass, as if Alexa’s intentions would be written like that time she just stared at the heart I have a tattoo of and asked me about Jamie, my hair up as well as I just ate a slice of cheese in my room.

Chewing on it and how she would ask me to play The Search For Cherry Red. I took out the guitars.

She fed me cherries, one by one in my mouth as I played and I would feed her the seeds, as her fingers brushed against my lips, the fingers slowly hooking into my mouth and then pulling me by the jaw, a cherry between my lips and she poked it with her tongue to let it fall into the hole of my mouth before she pressed a kiss.

I just gripped the guitar tighter, holding it a bit up, protecting my breasts, I didn’t have as much but neither did she.

“I’m a lesbian.”

It’s too obvious.

I chew the cherry, playing the notes.

“You taste like-like cherries.” The flirting sentences are wrong and my fingers wander into different songs as I close my eyes, strumming harder.

“I’m eating cherries.” And the seed is back in her hands. We could watch a movie but the outcome would be the same.

Alexa took off her shirt, her bra left as she tried to take my hand, but I just clung harder and she took it off, exposing her breasts and the thoughts of Alex Turner’s mouth being where she wanted my cherry lips to be seemed a bit odd and she kissed me again, taking off her skirt, her tights and her underwear and finally taking my hands off the guitar and messily taking my shirt off.

I tried not to kiss back, but she kept giving me cherries I chewed until she reached my breasts and I nearly choked as her fingers slipped in my underwear.

So soft.

Soft strokes, tongue shifting through nipples and her wet body on mine, it didn’t matter man or woman, I was receiving pleasure from another body and I screamed her to go faster, even nudging her mouth to go down.

I pinned her to the bed, going on top of her mouth, pulling my nipples, thrusting hard with her tongue as she stroked my hips, I looked backwards to see how wet she’s getting and I let a finger touch her and I let go off her mouth.

Alexa pins me to the bed.

And thrusts.

I scream.

She gasps, holding my hands, going faster then moving away to scissor and we both thrust, pressing so hard that my clit aches sometimes and the sweat is now the second layer of bed covers before she pulls me above with her and her tongue begs for mine.

I french her, for her and I take her hair, scruffing it, pulling it accidentally as the final thrusts are starting to get given, the bodies exhausted and cherries still left as I pull her body as I come and she watches me for a second longer before closing hers as well.

It’s early for bed, even for children, but the covers are pulled over us and we quickly glance at each other before faking sleep which becomes reality.

We eat together, even go out to a park and my head is pulled up.

We smile.

We kissed a few times.

“I love you.” Alexa says a bit concerned, waiting for a reaction.

She gets the cherries for herself as planned, as I see the park again and another kiss once more.

We agreed on the fact that I might fall in love.


I'm too sleepy after my exam but here it is and fuck, I like it :D :3

Basically the ending came first and everything followed:3 I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request:D


Used Lighter

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Humming Television Set

It’s back to two in the room with a record in the middle and a few strums hanging in the air as if they would be the ones who cut the throats and this decision.

It’s too tense and the tension to grab the CD and just hurl it and break my glasses in two and just show them in front of Daniel as I strums a bit more, hitting on one note all the time and for a second what if we’ll just get one note the two of us or should you find someone else to complete.

He raises his eyes with a smile.

I get in a second note and I shift back and forth, the evening stuck around like some plastic bag around with no Carlos to also even sit and share this solid melancholy even if he would be the culprit.

It’s not like he would kiss us both on the mouth and tongues would end up entangled but instead it’s the television in the background and no meat for Daniel as he would ignore the chicken I ordered and none would suggest food to the other, the notes still in the air and somewhere in the middle maybe the feet would tangle, the chopsticks still in hands, the boxes sprayed on the table among the notes and a few white unused old sticky notes, his jacket on the floor as I would hallucinate and see his scarf.

I wouldn’t hallucinate how his glance would fall too long on my cheek, as I would flick the channels with my fingers a bit greasy and how some movie would finnish and the credits would roll and pure curiosity of the beginning after the end would start and I would drop the remote.

I would glance, fuck, he would glance and we would just finnish eating the last bit of food left, legs just as tangled and maybe an arm around a shoulder, but giving an allowance for someone to pace around the room, searching for tea or coffee, so that the legs wouldn’t tangle again, just for pure safety, unknown to both, reasons and taboos.


This is my first time writing Interpol and I'll be very honest, when I got this request all I knew were a few songs and that's it. I'm sorry if I got them wrong as usually I write about bands, people I've read before, love and can give out random small facts.

But that doesn't mean I'll decline something I don't know, instead I'll just give myself a certain amount of time and try to get the pairing or person, sorry, if it ended up bad or out of character and I hope you'll enjoy it and thank you for the support and requests

Thank you


Humming Television Set2

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Lesbian Vacuum

Penetration aches too much and if I could I’d light a cigarette inside this red vacuum, but instead I just pull my knees closer and I bite my lip, making inhaling lips and exhaling as I see a few girls scattered around the lower flower of the bus, as one sits right in front of me and I look at her shirt.

How the buttons are done and how easy it should be to just-

I close my eyes, wanting to get out but instead I look at her body.

Her hair on her shoulders, no above, and I wonder more about her body, like the colour of her bra and the shape of her nipple and how hard it would get if I just poked it a bit.

People like schoolgirls because they gave you sense of virginity or utter sluts.

I like the way they’re dressed, how it gives a sense of fake nostalgia, as I’ll never go to a fancy old posh school and I won’t have a best friend to open myself as a lesbian to and then toss an apple to a girl I like and like sick days again. Now you don’t have the thrill of sitting surrounded by tissues and knowing that you skipped something boring in order to get to summer.

She shifts her legs.

I want to run my hands through them and up to her underwear, spread her legs out, go down on my knees and lick her clit as it tingles between my tongue and suck so gently.

My hand is held between my squeezed legs and I would touch myself to her, to how her skirt slides up and she fixes it.

She gets out of the bus.

I light a cigarette behind her.

She feels the smoke and her black hair turns around.

You feel who is a lesbian and who’s not.

She asks for a cigarette and I give her my own, she sucks on it slightly and my palms are too sweaty and her mouth is too nice to hold.

I move towards her to get my cigarette and then she does.

She’s just a bit shorter than me and has more breasts unless it’s one of those bras Kate bought and Jamie laughed off.

I stop.

She puts the cigarette in my mouth.

Her fingers hold my lips.


I drive by a posh school sometimes on bus and the thought just came by:) to use so yeah:3

I hope you enjoyed this and this is a first when I write Alison as a lesbian and please feel free to request further lesbian or bi Alison stories :D


You Make The Cherries Go Sour

Monday, 19 March 2012

Hell Hates You

It was far too chilly for the morning and my t-shirt seemed far too thick for it to let the cold soak my body as I shivered, watching Nicky pass the ball all over the grass field.

I was watching him even if we agreed on playing together and I lit a cigarette, my feet giving up and I kept watching him, with a lit cigarette, knowing that some wild sheep might attack us and eat the ball leaving Nicky to cry and me buying him some particular chocolate.

And the sky started to burn the sun at least in my head as Nicky sat besides me and the amount of years was stupid to count, point was

the grass was wet

like Nicky’s lips after he licked them and I just watched him.

A moment can go on forever if don’t trim it in the right place with the right edges, so I leaned my head against his shoulder, I don’t remember what Camus book we talked about or the exact colour of the stripes on his shirt but I recall his hair being a bit greasy and no makeup and a spot behind my ear and how young we felt and how death seemed something distant over the river over the gate and hidden.

I breathed out the smoke to smile and kiss.


The kiss in the ending was really, because well, everyone myself included wants them to kiss:3 there xD

Thank you and I hope you enjoyed it:3

<3 Null

Sunday, 18 March 2012

Last Day Of Magic

I dye my nails.

And it dries.

Like a bus stop.

When you’re just sitting there and I spit out water on myself onstage before leaving, thinking of all the people I don’t know and I quickly smile at Jamie before he leaves me with people to scatter and in the end it’s me chain smoking on a sofa, flicking through some left over magazine with a few ripped pages.

Maybe he would be a person I’d meet on a bus stop, just to fall in love for a few seconds, nothing really works even his strumming in all the other rooms, it feels like it and I tap my fingers, breathing in harder and music always attracts me in a man, how he communicates with me and it’s always the way that I cannot touch, but I have to listen more and more and it’s as if penetration is a sin and the notes which go inside me aren’t to make me feel this pleasure.

I sit thinking of how Jamie took photos yesterday, his lips a bit tight and Joshua just suggested going off somewhere and how before the drinks he would talk about bands and I’d agree to give him some vinyls as he’d light my cigarette, looking persistent to my lips and those fangs, as if he could bite in my neck and I wondered how would it feel and I leaned in a bit and he just leaned back.

Jamie was written all over my face, distracting all, as if I had been raped by Hince and no one wanted to link themselves to a raped woman.

But then he’d lean in and we kissed briefly and maybe I nudged my neck a bit so that he would bite it, in the end of the evening he held my face with one hand and I grinned.


I'll be honest, I have a horrific on and off relation with The Horrors, I just can't get into them, but I've checked and tried them, but I think I like Faris' drawings more than their music.

Last Day Of Magic popped in my head, really. Being too honest.

Thank you very much for the request and I hope you enjoyed it :)


Lesbian Vacuum

Friday, 16 March 2012

Schizomilk 7

I don’t see Jack for a few days straight.

Neither does Jamie see Jack, but he says he left a note, but we didn’t open it, as if it would be a note on his death or something so instead we sat in the kitchen and drank more coffee.

More and more after every mug, and Jamie kept pacing around the room until he eventually shot himself.

It was a plain taking out a few drawers, fiddling through them and then taking the metal thing out and pressing it against his head, like many who he knew in his head did.

And before he had cereal with yoghurt, looking up and doing a bit of toast and quickly looking at me.

Jamie never offered me the gun, Jack did, as he came when Jamie was supposed to be taken away but I hid him with me and slept, both of us not touching each other just like the deceased had wished, Jack appreciated it but gave me the gun anyway, saying that I may and that he would watch how my body would fall on his, but I never shot myself I had most likely died of not waking up one morning, maybe due to starvation as with no Jamie I would just sit in the room, until I felt my body just fall and the arms spread out just like Jamie’s and I started crying, sobbing, my hair falling out of my fingers as the foggy substance remained and I didn’t turn my head to see Jamie, instead I just pressed myself harder against the wall.

Jack didn’t have an alibi.

Neither did me or Jamie.

But the court found some alibis, as our copses were injected with adrenaline, in my mind the jolt felt like it, maybe you can tell by a corpse if it can lie or not, maybe it cannot.

Point is we both were there with Jack without an alibi and the whispers spread that what if he killed Kate Moss.

I was with Jamie in a pub in the end of a small town, drinking coffee and bragging about his wife, as Jack shot Kate, after a long argument, saying that she was standing in the way of two morons, maybe he knew that I would die of starvation, while Jamie would shoot himself and


And that's the end of Schizomilk.

Before anything, I know that Jamie is vegan, but he is eating yoghurt for a reason.

I hope you enjoyed this story and the ending with Jack was thought of me perhaps a day or so ago and today I was itching with making Jamie kill himself. The initial ending was both of them locked in the room and starvation would be the death cause, not just in Alison's. Also I wanted a more sexual relation with Jack as well.

The whole idea came to me while listening to Lady Gaga's Scheiße, the very beginning where she mumbles in german for whatever reason the whole idea came to me and started out with Alison with schizophrenia and a gun and going insane after murdering Kate and Jamie locking them both up and how they slowly starve and go insane, well, this is what it ended up with:)


Thank you so much

<3 Last Day Of Magic

Thursday, 15 March 2012

Schizomilk 6

Jamie had locked himself out, using as he said mint wallpaper with pink swirls to stick me here as he would sit outside with arms across his chest and talk to everyone who suspected him.

Jamie had an alibi.

I didn’t.

I could buy one, I guess or fake it, but the point was I was away from it under the swirls of eternity and I started thinking how could I do something.

I had a bathroom, maybe I clawed it out in my sleep, but I just had to walk-

I could go outside and use the other door to see Jamie.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and was excited to see Jamie, before seeing the plain window instead of the door, I peeked out to see people and then sat on the rug, waiting for the bathtub to fill in as the water slowly started leaking out onto my feet as I stole Kate’s blue nail varnish and started colouring my nails, chewing my lips, wishing I had chewing gum.

Maybe Jamie had chewing gum.

I walked past a few people who were asking Jamie questions, all of them holding papers instead of technology and the seemed to have no heads, maybe I was dreaming or was too bored to note the differences in faceless people.

“Alison!” Jamie yells, hands still crossed and the people turn their attention towards me, they call me a caveman and take a few photos and Jamie continues screaming my name as I head back and lock myself in the bathroom, for when the people open the door I’m back in my infinite state as I looked at the drawn ceiling and try to sleep with the people flashing their lights on the bathroom that sometimes in the night, I think the wallpaper caught the light after all.

Jack didn’t come.

Jamie was outside, shaking and started mumbling too many words outside and begging the walls to bring Kate back and I would throw the ring against the walls, until the stones would break, maybe then my luck would go worse without wearing full stones.

But it didn’t, things stayed the same, I took off the ring and no one came, I put it back on and no one came as well.

I started thinking of Jack sometimes and wondering where would his love sick songs go. I wondered if I would meet back at his how would I explain myself and would we love when there would be no love?

What if you don’t need love and I hug my bear to look at all the hair which is my stage as my fingers try to clean the stage of my face where he could kiss if he wanted.

We wouldn’t be able to hold the kiss for long would we, we would get bored and just pull away causing some scene to leak silence as his arm would be across mine.

I was loved without love and I strike out my fingers looking at the new blue.

In the night I walked out to see Jamie.

I walked out onto a wide street, I even forgot street names and there were busses and people gave me cigarettes when I asked them and I wandered off, some people asked me and I said my name was Ginger and I bought two beers one for me and the other for Jamie, who when I came back was watching television, dumbly, some trash TV as if Kate was here.

I sat near his legs on the floor, he patted my head and called me Katie.

I closed my eyes and cried.

Jack wouldn’t have called me Karen or Meg, but Jack wasn’t here.

Jack wouldn’t show up.

Jack didn’t have an alibi, at least something he did not want to give which was most likely some quick kiss he had with Meg and now he hides his head as Meg would have to confirm it even if there is no one to hide it from and I sleep with Jamie sometimes if he is going for me.

Three single men.

I’m not even a woman anymore, maybe I could pee standing.

I tried in the bathtub and it wouldn’t aim, I turned on the water and my coat soaked it up before it was shut off due to some technical difficulties in the opposite houses with little children, I lit one of Jack’s left cigars anyway and tried to hang the ashes on the wall and lure death, maybe it would take it and me away along with the lack of love in humanity and perhaps in life.

I walk out soaking the rug to Jamie, who has a gelled head and we look at each other.

Jamie says we’re The Kills and I agree, he leaves the room, picks a guitar after a while and plays, as I just tap my finger against the sofa, trash TV now being my sweet, too sweet but I can’t spit it out, there is no trash can for the real usage of it or no recycling and then he walks back in a suit and plays chords I know and doesn’t allow me to sing, asking my head to be on his shoulder, as I am his best friend and I show him the ring.

“I know you’re Kate.” But I’m not. “And neither is Jack Jack.”

Apparently the nearly used cigar is giving me away, but I’m not Jack, I’m just a Jack cigar user who inhales to deep and inhales in your mouth, Jamie and I kiss him, he just looks at me and plays.

“Kate, we have to keep the tension. And neither is Jack Jack.” Jamie tells me before I ask and tells me he’ll get me a nicer, nicer ring and that Alison is nothing to him, just a band member and I have to listen, playing with the nail varnish, scrubbing it off with my fingers which is a fun thing to do when you are Kate to someone who she loves or is loved back.

Schizomilk 7

Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Schizomilk 5

Jack kept visiting me.

He would take this frisbee and we would play with it.

The frisbee was a sky blue with little stars on it, matching the theme of my spaceship room and-

The room is too small, so the frisbee would hit the wall and fall on my head, but it was ok because it was soft, like I had one in my childhood, a different colour but it were just as soft and I wondered if it were the same one and it kept falling on my head and Jack would take it off.

I smiled.

I shouldn’t smile.

It reminded me of the days when my hair was black and I was too good, that I would find someone but because I was too good, no one would have the guts to go and here I am locked and Jack keeps hitting me with a frisbee.

Then Jamie joined, smoking a cigarette, making his voice deeper and I looked at the two men and I wanted them to make out, I wouldn’t have either, so let no one else besides them have them, even if I had a bit of Jack for a while, before the future we didn’t want to think about came on us and we just fled off.

I took Jamie’s cigarette as it was not only my turn to be hidden, but Jamie’s as well and Jack glued the wallpaper, but he started coming in my dreams, when I’d hold the light open and my eyes closed and Jamie would stroke my hair.

I would dream of the man I briefly loved and sometimes I would go back to myself and corner myself from Jamie who would not inhale but hold the cigarette in his mouth to slowly burn away and kiss his lips, until then he’d look up, his hands spread out and I started then drawing pictures on the ceiling, to distract us both until Jack would bring us food and tell how Kate would come back to life and laugh.

“Did she?” Jamie or I would ask.

“No.” He’d laugh and we would laugh silently, nowhere in our bodies the laugh would start and pulse through out something which didn’t lack Kate’s existence.

We didn’t miss Kate, at least that’s what I’ve told myself until I took my hands and spread out Jamie’s mouth to count the mice wondering in my head.

There were days when I would stick my feet against the stars and my mind would tell me my name and what were my thought before the dream of Kate with an axe appeared, cutting my throat in half, now I slit the throat with my fingers and I even mumbled, wanting Jamie to know that I can speak, but not here what I would speak of.

We would talk, when his eyes went down and cigarette would fall from his mouth.

Jack would light his cigarettes and his hat with feathers would tickle my nose.

“Jack.” And I stared.

And he stared.

And Jamie stared above.

Everything was a sin and he was a widowed man with two previous lovers and the nights would fall like a damaged curtain and Jack would stand there giving me his top hat.

“Jamie sees nothing.” I am the sane one and Jack kisses me, as Jamie prays to the above.

Jack touches me and Jamie looks down.

Jack’s tongue flashes in my mouth and Jamie takes the cigarette from his mouth.

Jack’s hand goes under my shirt and Jamie stabs Jack’s neck with the cigarette and burns the feathers with a lighter.

Both men stand up and I touch myself as they hurl each other around the room, such a weird instinct taht the woman wants the man to fight and defeat for her, as I had two men in this case and both wouldn’t stop even blood and hair and a nail on the floor and I would giggle, playing myself between their legs.

We should all have sex and I pull them down and Jack kisses Jamie, as Jamie kisses Jack and the room is lit, the room has no Kate, no sin just a praying Jamie, as he undoes his belt and Jack takes it to bite the belt through and give the brown leather for me to wear as a bracelet as if I would have braces and I try to put them on my teeth, but it doesn’t really work, nothing really works as I am stripped from my clothing and both men go inside and I hold hands from both, my body moving back and forth from both.

There is no Kate, but I feel her watching me with a gun and shooting her head with every thrust with blood soaking her blue dress, matching the room and the shot gives a pain through my body, but they don’t stop and I don’t ask them to.

I feel as if I’m bleeding but I don’t and the liquid is not only their sperm and my cum, but their saliva as they lick me clean.

And Kate’s gun shines and sprakles too much, maybe it has tiny crystals that you don’t see that they are crystals and they were done by strong men who jerked off and fucked her in the face, maybe in her nose.

Or ears, the pierced holes.

I spread my hands and sit up slightly, maybe to find God like Jamie did with that small cigarette and the controversy is in these walls, as we all shiver to the sex we had between lovers and how we all eat some water with spoons, bronze, gold and silver with creepy faces spoons and how Jack throws the frisbee only this time on Jamie’s face.

Is it how he attracts chicks?

But then is Jamie isn’t a chick, would I be yellow and a chick?

Maybe and I close my eyes to count the thoughts of the both men around me and I pull them onto my bed.

Schizomilk 6

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Schizomilk 4

I wanted to steal Katie’s photo album, just to see her smile all over so that I could spit on her face and lie with her on top of me, telling her fate how her body was rotten and how Jamie wouldn’t go to her funeral.

At least I thought he wouldn’t.

He tore the wallpaper to come and say hi, his hair gelled back and his eyes a bit too wide as he sat on the floor, denying all cigarettes and I told him how I wanted to get rid of all of Kate’s evidence and I told him about the photo albums, in the end he brought them to me, cleaning off the dust.

I recall how the wallpaper crooks when he walks in and how I threw myself at him, breathing heavily, hungrily, but not touching him, besides taking his wrists in my hands and then slowly giving a kiss to each and smiling at him.

“I love you.” I keep saying to him without any actions and the albums were in my lap with Jamie’s head so that his eyes could be split by paper and he would watch all the high school, kinder garden and girls with their first bras and without and he stroked my waist sometimes.

Sometimes he would lift his head up to try and kiss me and he would fall back, curling his feet closer, his knees and himself maybe to me, maybe to Kate, maybe into the walls, as I sat under the drawn sun and the stars and the moon and the skies and I just stroked his dark hair as he tried to relax.

“I love you.” Jamie said and the sun seemed to collapse on me and instead I just dug my fingers deeper into his hair as if I would find a switch would would turn this reaction off, but instead his eyes were deep down in mine.

A well.

Jack phoned us a few times, asking, before everything saw the conspiracy in both of us killing the model, as we’d kiss, tongues clashing as we’d listen to Jack, as he would put music in the background.

Jack also visited us with a suitcase which had a tie hanging out of it and the leather had no meaning and the man just sat cross legged, tapping his fingers, foot and body against the chair.

If you don’t kiss the man you love for long you start forgetting and every kiss becomes the first kiss as you grin under the drawn sun, because that’s where we make out and where I spread out my hands to burn like Kate and the ring is always intact, ashes flying out of it when I put it on and I had my hand out of the window, spreading a bit of Kate into the forgotten world or the forgotten Kate by all brands, slowly.

She’s burnt to crisp, she’s like bacon and she’s my vision.

Up to some distinction that I would say that I love her.

She would be my God.

She would be my savior.

She would be my Jesus.

She would be the cross that I bear across my neck and I carry, a death just sticks to your teeth, like gum to skin and you can’t chew it through.

Sometimes she yells at me in my dreams, so foggy like candy floss that by the end of the dream I eat her and she came once, in heels, pointy boots and even black hair.

It were a mirror, Jamie brought along and I looked how pale I was and how the black hair had gone away.

Jack visited us.

He walked in the room and sat with me, as I waited for Jamie to deal and get himself a trial, as Jack would draw some people across the stars, all holding hands, maybe some sign of us not to give up, the ashes were blown by the wind, a few left and those were taken for us to blame and maybe a sentence to be muttered against Jack in court as he would know and glue his lips with red duct tape over it and pray.

He gave me his hat and I wore it for three days, before Jamie stripped me out of my skin ad threw me in the cold shower, as I gulped the water for the air and then popped me back into my skin.

Our scales are deep, the skin is the cellophane which kills our ability to be mermaids and I grabbed Jamie’s cock as he was washing me and stroked it as we made out and Jack walked past, seeing both of us naked, smiling.

And we got a bubble bath which Jack made for us as we had sex in the water and it felt too good, when Jamie went down and his skin was stripped down and maybe Jack sold the tickets for our show as I saw yellow eyes hungrily staring from the walls of the tub as we would sink in and hold necks together and bodies, legs dissolving from the soft liquids we produce and the ones are made and we sink deeper, cheek to cheek, until we stick our heads out gasping for air.

We killed Kate.

I think he poisoned her as well, he should’ve done something to her, Jamie couldn’t have just stood her all these years.

He brewed poison from ivy and strawberries and some other stuff just to feed her after sex, hit the vulnerable and the unborn baby with all the pills he gave her.

Jamie never loved Kate.

Jamie loved me.

And Jack would film, cheating on a feather from his top hat.

And we should all dance I said, as there were bangs on the door and we all hid, besides Jack outside, who would’ve taken the shots, but walked out, excusing and asking where would Jamie Hince be and making a face, as me and Jamie pressed our cheeks again and sunk into the floor, feeling the dust, the unknown mice and thoughts being vacuumed by Jack next day.

We’d be

body to body


Schizomilk 5

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



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

Sunday, 11 March 2012

Schizomilk 2

She’s burnt away and I light a cigarette to leave.

Eventually Jamie starts calling and I see the day dissolve into darkness, that the only light is the lighter and my closed eyes shield me from reality and I feel calm, a sense of hope, what if because she’s ashes everything will be over. I look at the left nails, stick them in slowly into the ground, trying not to ruin my own, I’ve started paying attention on my looks, hoping that he would notice.

I take the deceased ring, the one for quite a few grand andI put it on my ring finger. It’s not too pretty, so I wonder ifI should bury it. I should give it to a hobo, he deserves it better for reading a magazine, wrapped in bed covers with dogs than someone who has a blowjob mouth.

I exhale the smoke and I hear cars, softly lulling me to sleep and I hear Jamie screaming, clutching the ashes, pressing his lips against the ashes.

But before the couple asked me if I needed help not looking at the floor, but at the bling which surrounded my finger in victory. I wouldn’t get that ring, I’d get another nice vintage one or maybe a plain gold one, I like the ones with darker stones in them, maybe a white gold one, since he spends too much lately and they leave me as the future of Jamie’s screams lulls my mind.

I press myself against the air, before he slaps me and my cigarette falls onto her ashes, burning away death.

He yanks me up.

“I love you.” I say and he just grabs the under armpits tighter, tighter and he breaks into tears, not knowing what to say or do.

“Love me.”

It’s written across my face, you fuck, hold me.

But he doesn’t, I’m the toy he bought at the toy store, I’m fun to play with but I’ll never get his bed.

I press myself against his mouth, but it’s too cold, I might be on the ground, he might just take the cigarette and he lights my hair and I yell, grabbing his shoulders, begging him to love me but the thing is he never does.

We walk to the car and once we’re near he blows out my hair, as if it were birthday candles and he smiles.

Kate is left there to rot, that’s how we leave her and he doesn’t ask me to take off the ring, we both know that I just needed to speak out the right words, so I keep it on me, I wonder if we should have buried her, but we did pour leaves over her and jumped over the ashes, digging them into the ground, holding hands but I never kissed him, I clutched his shoulder, babbling about how we shall live now together forever, how much I want him inside me and he just nods, the fire stroking my hair in a way he does.

We stop on a traffic light and I play with the burnt edges of my hair, leaning against the window, as it cools down the skin where the fire reached on the chin, leaving black spots as if I have acne again and I cry, just wanted the glass to be ice, ice cream to eat and share with Jamie.

I press myself harder into the seat, feeling the night starting the break out the day from it’s hands and the morning slowly runs through the streets Jamie drives in circles, looking ahead, we go to a gas station and I wonder how many dogs will I see.


He gives me no food and lights a cigarette as we drive away, his arms tight against the wheel and I lean to kiss his shoulder, my ring visible

and we go back home.

I’m home and we walk inside, the scent of Kate all over and I wonder when will the tabloids hesitate what happened to the queen Kate and all will not awe at my ring as we shall walk around and twirl, twirl, twirl and I move my hands in the air, humming, as Jamie just stares at me and makes tea.

He screams at me and I twirl and I invite him to twirl.

Jamie starts hitting the wall with the little flowers which Katie choose and I shall rip all of them off.

Jamie, rip them off, dear and the does with that little wooden door being exposed to the world.

We don’t smoke because it’s not night.

And I twirl as Jamie goes to mine and I now twirl anti-clockwise, smiling, when he is back and looking at the luggage, the notebooks and my desk, the supplies of food and how he drops them on the floor.


And I throw my arms around him and I kiss him, we’re married, there is no awful, awful Kate and I press my head against his chest, I’m gone, he’s gone, we don’t need anything else besides plain happiness, music was the isolator, but we can do it. We can start playing together, I’m the toy in the bed now, as I undress myself and find my pajama.

I smile, he doesn’t smile as I take out all the clothes and find the dark blue baggy cloth sewn together and bought years ago when we were somewhere together before blonde was in sight and I twirl with it too, smelling the scent of long love.

Jamie tears off more wallpaper and then he just falls onto the couch and falls asleep.

I try to sleep with him on the couch, but there is no space.

I pull the rug next to the couch.

I can be the stuffed toy on the floor.

I fell down, but I was on the bed.

Schizomilk 3

Saturday, 10 March 2012


I keep flicking the lights on and off, leaving the mircowave to be the light left on the dancefloor of my apartment.

And then they’re off, the mirror being the moon and I want to take it down, just to see how it would feel if Jamie would press his fingers against it.

I hold the mirror harder, the light too bright and my head keeps spinning, the pull I did in order to kiss him before that last time and how he pulled away, breaking the last bond, as if there had been none.

I grab that mirror and I hold myself from shattering it for a brief second, holding it stronger.

In the mirror I won’t be blonde unless I draw the hair on the mirror and give myself different drugs a few years ago and

I switch the light on, the shards on the floor and I walk in circles on them, letting them sting my boots and maybe try to pierce my socks and I keep walking.

I go upstairs to my empty bedroom, throwing myself on it, the covers being too heavy as if they could suffocate me.

I take the mirror in the bathroom, sitting, looking up not to see myself and I put on make up, if he wants make up, he will and I do thick arrows, my lips red and my hands gripping the sink and shoulders shaking.

I promised his wife, to see her and go to see some deceased friend from a tsunami.

Thing is,

I stand there.

I should take a mirror or acetone

And pour it in.

In and in, it should be green, but it’s a light transparent and I pour some on my fingers and wonder if I suffocate her, if I light up my hands, she’d burn and

The acetone should be on her in something like a flask, the mother fucking drunkie, when she’ll be crying.


I head out, too many things scattered in my bag and I’m playing tic tac toe in my head, taking a bus, no, I don’t take a bus so I just walk out of the bus stop.

My head is spinning.

I ring her doorbell.

I wake up with mirror shards and my face is screaming in the shards.

I think I’ve killed Kate.

Just taken that bottle and yelled at her, when there was no one on the cemetary.

I walk out.

This is what I do.

My bag contains a notebook, a pen and my voice, my screaming voice, it just opens up, when Jamie pulled back.

I knock on her door and Jamie smiles. I hold my hands to myself and I look up, counting the stars in the day sky.

I bite my fingers which are in bitten nail polish.

“Ha! Is that the one you were advertising?” I ask her, recalling my local boots with all those people who remind me of other people and sometimes

I don’t

I should

Just sit there and cry

Because I’ve killed Kate

I just took the shards

Which were a bottle and I flung it at her and gave her water with acetone, just that her body would burn and the opposite sign on the bootle read FLAMMABLE YOU CAN BURN KATE MOSS





Kate cries and cries and her make up is in one piece and we are driven there, I don’t see who drives, even no one, I just count the fingers on my hands, bang my head against the window.

“Kate, I want to kill you.” But she laughs and her vagina is stretched and most likely Jamie fucks her hard and mine isn’t fit to stretch that one ideal cock.

We walk, nearly hand in hand, she picks up daisies and laughs until we reach the grave and she sits on the ground, her blonde blonde hair and Jamie is not tall

or a prince

So give him back to the nation

So I take that bottle and I show it to her.

Kate, I want to kill you.

The bitch screams as the alcoholic shards are the ones I’ve walked on.

I take out a small mirror, a vintage little mirror, little Katie’s buy for quids in little stores and show to little fuckers Jamie and she watches herself bleed, as I pull her head into the ground. That person was taken away by water, there is no blood in the soil, let’s kill you instead of innocent, what if I shall save a baby if it’s someone’s will to kill and I laugh as she tries to breathe in and that’s when I light her.

“The ground is your pillow, Kate.” And with the screaming muffled, the body burnt and the couple having sex in the back of the yard, I sit, looking ordinary, smiling at her burning corpse and the way her body moves and how her hands wave and how I light a cigarette, the tip, the very tip and inhale.

I watch her struggle.

I’d think watching a person die would kill my mind.

But no, baby, you made me mad with that gun of yours which I couldn’t kiss and I killed the mouth which fed off yours.

I don’t leave her until she’s gone and Kate is here, forever, burnt

And I

lift her


she doesn’t smile

eye gone

Hair falls like a Christmas wrapper with the skin, the fabric dissolved and flames taking the inside treasures, seeking more as I look at Kate in her death.

And I inhale the air of the grave, I don’t bury her, I don’t know why I’m here, but I press myself against the ground, just to smile at the dead

Dead like it when you smile

Because they can’t smile back

And observing a smile is just too nice


The title was quite a trouble and in the end I came back to the initial one until a few seconds ago, when the title just came to me after posting the story:)

I hope you enjoyed it and tomorrow the next chapter will be up and thank you

<3 Schizomilk 2

Friday, 9 March 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 6

We started the year with kissing, but in the end nothing happened, months went and she started joining me more frequent singing and her hair was about to reach her shoulders.

We stopped touching each other.

Once I even fell asleep on the couch and in the morning Alison would be scattered on the bed.

We could kiss each other, but what would the point in that be when it was so easy to do and perform, which is what we’ve been doing briefly. We started touching ourselves separately, sometimes I would stand and wait until she would be done with her silence and her cheeks would be flashed.

By the middle of the year I had made out with the girl with weed and I spend a few days in her studio, Alison asking nothing and cooking for herself, despite that she grabbed the first apartment near my home.

We stopped talking for a day, both of watching television, most likely chain smoking and she came back, telling she loved me. Alison walked in and sat on my bed, lyrics in her mind and tongue. I could take them out with a thrust, but instead I took the guitar and soon enough we had sex through music and I would start dating that girl, briefly, but I never was cheating on Alison, point was, we never really started and those shags we had could’ve been something else in our mind, it would have been a kiss which developed into a carousel, point is, you buy tickets for the carousel, always thinking you are on the same horse.


And then another phase of The Kills begins.

It is a bit short, but it will be the conclusion and I'd like to say, that tomorrow's request is a gore Alison and Jamie multi chapter, something similar to Axe For Cork Extraction. Really looking forward to it, as I have a plot and yes, it was on the bus as well and as usual, but more details on the story and everything will be tomorrow, all I say is that I am looking forward to it.

I am really looking forward.

About Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us, it's not over, just that what I guess I never really said much was that it was going to cover the entire Kills career up to date and everything behind it. Every chapter is written after a request for it as I'd prefer writing it in parts:)

Basically starting from tomorrow it will become something like with Axe For Cork Extraction, each day will have it's own chapter and how long will it be? I don't know yet, so I'm not sure about the requests, I'll be honest, feel free to request but when will they be posted I honestly have no idea, at least at this point, basically keep checking the behind the scenes.

I really hope it will be enjoyable and that you'll like it and thank you very much everyone for the support and requests (and hate mail or rather reactions, the funnies I've seen had been encouraging everyone to get pitchforks and go after me xD). My stories are controversial, gore filled, have death and sex in them.

I'm the one who is thankful for a request and knowing that my writing might just be loved :)

Thank you and looking forward to tomorrow!



Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 7

Thursday, 8 March 2012

It ain't such a thrill

I couldn’t fall asleep as soon as I moved out.

I kept knocking on his door and he would open it, ignoring now the girls filling my side of the bed and we would smoke a cigarette, in the beginning sharing, when there was no money.

Then some girl pointed out that we were smoking one for both and we had the money, a bit more, so Jamie handed me a second one and the bitch shared the fag with him coughing and was gone in weeks, Jamie lighting his too fast along with mine.


I was asked a short story and it is quite short indeed.

Unlike my usual bus thinking, I just came up with it moments before writing, also might be some sort of XD behind the scenes or additional story to Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us, which by the way, a new chapter will be up tomorrow!

<3 Schizomilk

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

I didn't use the glow in the dark condoms because I was too embarrassed in front of my not yet dating girl

He ordered noodles with chicken for both, with his hands a bit trembling as he waved the delivery boy bye, just to ask him to get noodles without chicken.

And his were cold, but he ate them anyway and it felt as if we were young

and I nearly hit my eye, drawing the arrow, one of the few things I manage to do this morning as I brushed my hair, missing too many threads.

He always felt too young as if he were sixteen and I could be a character from any little tv show, thinking that the bad boy will go for me and he doesn’t, instead I go for the one which looks like a puppy.

Alex greeted me with a bit more confidence, a wider grin and let me in, lighting a cigarette nearly instantly and complimented on my hair, his fingers still trembled a bit and his head was held a bit higher, jeans new and tight, boots scattered on the corridor and this time we were supposed to go out for chinese and we both stared a bit.

I leaned and took his cigarette and he just sighted into my mouth, his tongue inside and with my own.

And there’s the age, the not so big gap and he just grabs hold of my shoulders, digging in and I am not too scared until we both pulled back.

Was there a reservation after all?

The first time when I had been to lost and my fringe revealing my eyes and I started feeling old and maybe something instead of cats, like dogs would start crawling on my walls, we just sat there on the couch, watching a movie.

Alex kept watching me instead, playing with my hair and I would shiver.

He kissed my cheek.

I looked at him.

He kept trying my noodles at the restaurant yesterday, but I felt that it was just a cheap way to getting my saliva and he sensed it, closing up a bit, but holding my hand as he asked a few brief questions about the tour and Jamie. We smoked twice, last one was shared because we had ran out, but his hand was still shielding mine from my thoughts.

We came back and he kissed me again in the corridor, his mouth more eager and hands weren’t trembling as much as they did the first time.

The first time after he kept kissing me, I just fell on his lap and we just stared at each other before bursting out laughing at the tension and he leaned down and kissed me.

He kept biting my neck, his eyes closed and every time they opened he would stop to quickly glance at me and stop, wondering what should the next step be. Alex took off my shirt and bra and his own shirt.

“Fuck.” As one hand was playing with my zipper and another was between the couch cushions and three more fucks were pronounced as he slid his hand deeper. “I lost the condoms.”

We weren’t naked, but he said he had them in the couch, later on, smoking nervously and to shy to just drive somewhere for them and later as he told me the glow in the dark ones were a gag and he wasn’t sure if he should’ve even went near them.

It wasn’t the couch yesterday, it had been the bed.

“I have the condoms.” I smirked a bit, but smiled, getting nervous about actually having sex with another man, even if I’ve dated, Jamie would flirt with the thoughts during intercourse. He didn’t this time, he just left, most likely to jerk off in Kate’s face and more condoms were bought by Alex in the morning when I was sleeping.

I slept with my head on his chest, Alex’s head tilted towards my own and we both woke with a sleepy kiss and some mumbles about moving in.

Alex makes breakfast downstairs, he nearly burns the bacon and misses some programme, maybe Rastamouse but I don’t ask him, instead we both smile and eat and eventually I take a chair near him.


I don't know why I sort of develop some humor or lightness in the Alex Tuner stories, I guess I love him too much and exactly that much I dislike his music so I believe that's where it comes from. Just being honest.

I hope you enjoyed it:)

Also from Friday I'm starting as requested a violent multi-chaptered Alison and Jamie, not Untiltled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us, which is run on a pure request basis, as it covers their entire career, well is going to.

So all current requests will be put on hold, most likely, as I don't know yet how many chapters will it contain and how long will it be, most likely about Axe For Cork Extraction length:)

Thank you :)

<3 It ain't such a thrill

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

A Year Accurate

Even once a year a gun shoots.

And I look at the double barrel which I always stare at, I can buy it, but it won’t have the engraving and no smell of powder at all. I don’t think Jack has ever been used, but he occasionally says he sees bullets there.

Alison walks in.

And I dig myself deeper into the couch.

“Can I look?”

And she takes little Jack, his gun, my possession, his possession.

Alison throws an arm around me, cuddling me closer as the gun is now hers with the grass and the roses intertwining on it and she smiles. I play with her hair a bit.

“If it were a camera, do you think it would take a shot of us?” And her black fringe hints of a death final.

I take the gun from her fingers and press it against her temple, leaning in and then laughing.

Then she takes the gun and her eyes are too close for me to see the green.

I take the gun.

She takes the gun.

I shove it deeper.

I don’t remember who has the gun with all the movement on the mouths.

And the fingers let the trigger slip.

It’s quickly running to the cue for passion which is accurate.

And I get a shot accurate.


Thank you and the request was Jamie to get a shot, defending Alison. I hope it had enough sweetness, as requested:)

Feel free to request:)

<3 I didn't use the glow in the dark condoms because I was too embarrassed in front of my not yet dating girl

Monday, 5 March 2012

Make Me Mad All Over

You brought in that song, with one of your Höfners already around your neck and you showed it to me, you just keep shoving songs like that in face and you pretend you don’t see that I never struggle.

Baby, I become immune.

You started strumming, you always experiment.

Once you mumbled that you’d wait me to make the first move, but I never do

And you just flirt with the idea that once on a busy street, I’ll grab you and smile.

But the point is, you see me, with that black hair I had and not the mess I have which I brush a bit and how I wonder if my hair should be blonde and I shop with Kate for her to tell me what are heels and what are not.

You’re married.

You point the fact that you’re married as if it’s a sexuality, some pride, when there is none, she reads magazines as you lay on the bed, you with the remote or the other way round and maybe it is love and maybe you’re married.

But I’m the one you struggle so much over.

Point is you still don’t see me confessing on that street.

You just see me with long black hair and the fringe covering my face.

And baby, it pisses you off.

Baby, you just make me mad.


I had a bit of a struggle here, as I wrote the married part in the end and then just shifted it to it's currently place:)

I hope you enjoyed it and Pale Blue Eyes is a wonderful cover and I hope I captured Alison's feelings about it.

Thank you and feel free to request.

<3 A Year Accurate

Sunday, 4 March 2012

Scrub off the foam

After a few fags in the night and about two in the morning in a row, this light nervousness, just flooding my body as I kept checking my mobile, seeing if Lila is awake, a coffee and another fag, three times checking the make up and fixing the lashes, he was up.

A brief kiss, a long kiss.

He doesn’t push it too far and sometimes after I drink too much, I just mumble a bit and drink more, sometimes he holds my glass and he becomes my drink. Like that time we were on my bed and his hands just slip up, as I just got rid of his jeans, my legs around his waist and a few thrusts.

Then after we both came, he hesitated and I did.

I kissed him and I took the remote.

He looked at me, stroked my hair and we both watched Jersey Shore, I clung onto him and

I opened to bathroom and he sat there, an undershirt and underwear, shaving, smiled.

I ran a finger down his spine and he stopped, washed off the foam and just clung on to me and we just stood there, him wobbling us together.


It's just there, really

<3 Make Me Mad All Over

Saturday, 3 March 2012

null hypothesis

We should be allowed to smoke in the tube instead of staring hungrily at strangers and wondering when was their last fag or was it rolled tobacco and which brand was it.

The lights don’t flicker and death doesn’t linger in, but it’s too empty just a few people scattered, some talking, one man eating a Cadbury bar with his left hand, his eyes fixed on the dark windows.

And there is the male laughter opposite from me, but not straight forward opposite, but a bit to the left, he listens to something and just laughs at something or maybe the effect of everything I’ve done is upon me.

I look at his feet and I wonder if I should sit besides him.

I don’t.

A few stations pass and he looks at me and smiles.


I've been apparently dragged into shorter fiction, way shorter fiction, vignettes lately as you can see.

I hope you enjoyed this piece and I hope it has the Steve Hewitt and Brian Molko feel around it XD

Thank you


Scrub off the foam

Friday, 2 March 2012

Alone in my kitchen

Stabbed cigarette.

I wonder if I should cut it in half, but instead I just look at it, the light too bright even if I recall it dim.

I stood outside, waiting for Jack to simply do something, anything, some sort of brief explication, but instead I just got wind in my face and I checked my lipstick about two times.

I roll up the sleeves to watch the bruises fade in the bright light as the music goes from the inside with the video of my husband which he sits rewatching and sometimes his mood matches something opposite of my own and I have to watch him with other women, all of those who go on their knees and I just have to click my nails, thinking that it would be sexy, but it’s not and he just slaps my face.

I just look up, knowing how the new bruise will look like.

Maybe it will shape his hand, maybe my mouth if I could bite my own cheek, but I stare at Jack and he looks from above, as if he would be a saint.

Once I watched those videos of himself and other women by myself, just sitting there, clicking my nails as usual and he would just inside to watch me.

He dyed my nails once up to my wrists and he just looked at me, I didn’t flinch so he just swung his hand at me.

Maybe he were the man who would lock his children in a room for thirteen years, maybe he would lock me in a room and I would scream.

On the weekends we both sit in the same room, facing each other, sometimes I am naked and he rapes me, this is where I light a new cigarette and I am not allowed to inhale, so it is just left in my mouth with my bruises to make a collection and if we’d have neighbors they would never hear any of the screams and even when he hurls me across the room, nothing would be heard, as sometimes I don’t even feel my weight upon myself.


Sorry, it ended up being quite short but I really hope you enjoyed it and thank you

Sorry, heading off to bed:)

<3 Scrub off the foam