Schizomilk

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.

And

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

WHY DID JAMIE MARRY KATE

WHY WOULD YOU MARRY SOMEONE WITHOUT BREASTS WHICH YOU CAN’T HOLD

WHY CAN’T YOU FUCK A BROOM

OH, WAIT, BABY, YOU’RE NOT GAY

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

head

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