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.

None.

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.

THE HUSBAND IS HOME!

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

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