Fiji2

I hate London

I miss London

And that’s with what I lay awake sometimes.

And I inhale the smoke he gets out from his mouth and we end up trailing at this time of the month, it’s the beginning of June when you start getting bored and the end of summer seems far and everything is infinite and daily become nothing, the same toast with jam only without any rush and walking around the streets, only CDs making the day brighter or band rehearsals but that would be it.

I walk into everything he does and he trails behind me and we don’t speak for an awful lot and in one store he waits outside smoking the summer air, his hair a bit longish and clearly hadn’t been cut last week and he seems untouched by the chain smoking he’s been practicing with me and I just stare as if he would be the shop display instead of me and I guess

Yeah, he’s cute

And there’s too much time to kill, so we head outside and wander off deeper into London and each buy a 99 flake, to sit on someone’s stairs as the buildings get pricer and we don’t bother and then he starts asking about me, finnishing his cone and the heat gets stronger and he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a necklace which has no meaning behind for me and I lean stronger against the stairs.

I reveal my age but he takes me to the pub anyway and I watch him drink cheap alcohol as  I end up with one pint and he has three and we leave, Jamie complaining how hot it is.

In the end we get bored with the day and leave all the apartments and back where I heard him play just to stop at what I believe is his doorstep, the boredom is the factor so we both head in and he presses me against the wall, taking a condom from somewhere behind me as he kisses me and my chin aches from his piercing and I hold my eyes open as he flushes and is messy, getting rid of my shirt and alcohol mix with cigarettes as I have no bar on and he takes his shirt off, summer air and I feel his sweat as he mutters something against my neck and my jeans are off.

I keep gasping as he grinds against me, taking the hair off my forehead.

There are a lot of meotions and none as he goes in.

I gasp again and he tells me to ease, holding my cheeks, kissing me, spreading my legs, the carpet’s edges digging into my back as then he pulls me on top, but he does all the moves.

In the end I ease and I sink deeper and deeper, gasping, more sweat and we both come and he holds me for quite a while.

I keep breathing heavily as we avoid contact despite our bodies still linked until he slides out and takes off the condom, pulling me towards him, both eyes closed and we kiss.

Underwear on and we stare at the door and open it in the end to look out on the street and we share my first cigarette and another to make a longer chain to exhale together out of the summer and boredom.

I hate London.

Fiji3

I Can't Wait3

Once you start caring you hear all the rumors around you as if someone is passing a big green top hat around and it flashes in your eyes, so I start hearing more and more about Mr. Hince and Alison, how Mr. Hince has a dog and that his ring is made from white gold with Kate written on the inside, that he had fucked Alison once in the cafeteria, that he takes his dog out.

And he does.

I walk in the park once, eating an ice cream and I see him in a sleeveless shirt due to weather and he throws the frisbee at the black labrador and the dog catches it and he strokes the dog’s ears as I see the gold bracelet dangle on his hand and I start digging into my cone as I fix my sunglasses, watching Hince do his life.

I see him with the dog again the next day and as he throws the frisbee on the way to school with the labrador I imagine his cock slowly going inside Alison as she cringes at first and then pulls him closer, gasping, tongues out, his hands harshly around her body, looking forward to each thrust of pleasure and I keep sucking on my peppermint candy as I go inside the school and Mr. Hince walks past.

A day off.

And the hat is passed on as

“Jack fucks Alison now.” And I hear a few giggles and I see a teacher turn around, her hair in two high pigtails and her skirt red with an older teacher.

“That’s your teacher you’re talking about, girls.” And she shakes her head as the pigtailed teacher just glances at me and smiles.

She looks young and I glance at her chest mechanically, our society and television provides us enough boob information, so I need a smoke and I head out to see Alison all black, gloomy and with a lighter she flicks and glances at me, chewing her cigarette as she watches the flame die.

“Some assholes believe we fucked.” She exhales, as I look at her big black ring. She seems too black today with her hair down and looks like she had used scissors yesterday on her hair so I glance up to see the sky with her.

“Fuckers.” I laugh.

We never fuck in school.

We fuck outside school besides when we just started dating which was years and a year really.

I Can't Wait4

Red Barrels

He’s standing outside smoking, it’s the first feeling you’ll ever get with the man all dressed in red and Jamie behind me nudging me to head up and in the end they are the ones who hold the conversation instead of me as I just look at Jack and smile, he’s too red and his cigar is nearly over so he catches it’s death and throws it out into the grass.

“Alison.” I say out of the blue and then my hair hides me from how red he is and he laughs.

It had been after Jack and Meg split up and the word of Jack cheating spread out so we headed inside as Jamie talked to Meg and I saw his two barrel on the table next to all the garments and Coke and make up and an amp lying around and Jack lit another cigarette.

His gun had been red then, painted red and now the colour had all worn off.

I had the thought of sticking his gun before his cock as he just talked and talked and I listened and listened, nervously glancing at the gun before asking him why did he need a gun on his table in the first place.

“To play russian roulette of course! Double the fun!” He laughed his cigar in mouth as he blew two smoke rings and the third was faint as he coughed lightly and pressed the double barrel against his head and I expected it too shoot and for the red blood to go outside into the red room, but it didn’t, instead Jack just laughed and handed it over to me, giving me the cigar for strength as I started tearing off the paint with my fingernails which had red varnish, smudged as I clicked and he started kissing me with force.

You become a groupie to the man and he hurls me on the floor.

All morals are gone when he is inside and I play with the gun.

He starts going outside from me and I try to play the game again.

A bullet for each.

With my blood just as red as his cigar’s lightening and the matches all over with our faces now clasped onto as we death.

-

I've been using the idea of Jack having a double barrel too much lately and I like it quite a lot, I guess it's the only object which travels on purpose so yeah xD

And the last sentence is on purpose, the 'we death' :3 And literally to confuse minds, Alison talks about the gun's paint being off, so would that mean that she's alive or some other sort? :D

<3

Pale Blue Eyes

What Difference Does It Make7

The relationship between Alison and Jamie amuses me up to the point that I wake up and Alison is sitting on my knees and slides a knife on her tongue, leaving the red trail on my back as I feel something slice it and I gasp.

I look at her as she lays down besides me, smiling, her teeth red and how the blood slides out in a path for dreams to follow and her eyes seem blue as she stands up, naked, the clothes shattering like confetti and she breaks a piñata on the way to the bathroom and I wake in the middle of the night to Paul and his glasses on my back as I stand up.

He wakes up and I stroke his hair until he falls asleep and I smoke in the bathroom, filling up the bathtub.

Straight men amuse me.

They love women, but not a person. They love models, they are women, they love things which scream that

I think being gay is the acceptance of a person rather than humping someone

I take out the cigarette, knowing that Jamie won’t go for Alison.

What Difference Does It Make8

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 8

She kicks us out.

And Alison just stands there besides me, her hair tied up behind her in a messy bun, holding my guitar and the guitar case on the floor.

I quickly light a cigarette and give the younger woman a quick drag as I pack the guitar and she stares. We don’t have a studio any more, but at least we rehearsed for a few months and quite a while and the amp plays funny when I plug in it back at home but after a few kicks it’s back to what it was and Alison tells me to cook, flicking through channels, she starts feeling like my own child as she stops on some news channel and then on some pop chart for us to mock it and I look at her.

I love her.

I give us both some bread and make tea as we sit watching the weather forecast for Scotland for absolutely no reason and Alison mentions she’d never been there and I mention Edinburgh and she just nods, her feet digging into my side as the tea seems useless to the hot weather outside as I look at all the flies and even a lazy bee try to be creative by knocking itself down against the fridge and by the end of the day we buy ice lollies and eat both fruit flavoured, no dairy in, so it’s good and we smoke a few cigarettes both rereading any fiction we grabbed on my shelf and spending the evening on television again, not enough money to drink.

We head out to the night and make our way to someone’s back pool an hour later to knock each other in and then head back home, fully dry and I call my ex getting a deal for using her studio for later as Alison just stares at me from behind, maybe praying that I wouldn’t get another woman.

Jealous daughter.

I take a sip of an old whisky bottle we got for her birthday from someone.

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 9

Christmas Carol

I hate how people overdecorate a holiday. No one puts Easters eggs on the lawn like my neighbors used to put lights all over the ground on Christmas that everyone had to walk in through the backdoor and of course that only applied to the family, everyone else could step and break the lights, because the family has Christmas inside while the rest, we don’t.

Not really.

Instead the house looks like a mistletoe shrine and slowly paper tissues start filling the floor up like snow as Jamie walks around sneezing, him avoiding the NHS at all costs for an unknown to me reason and throwing tissues all over and any kind of doctor syrups and medicine left from Kate who left to Peru for some shoot and party she should attend.

I sit and look at the jungle sky with all the mistletoes and I glance at Jamie who keeps coughing and avoiding medicine due to some heavy allergic reaction he had in childhood, instead he drinks tea and worsens his taste with chain smoking and opening windows to let the snow in.

Eyelashes turn into snow as he stares and smoke runs out of his mouth and his fingers turn an even blue as he opens his eyes and I see the wrinkles around his face and a very light stubble due to the late time and how the clock starts ticking as if it could be New Year.

But it’s not and Kate will be back for New Year and Jamie will give Lila Grace the gift I helped him choose because he had forgotten and didn’t ask Kate.

I walk behind him and I put my hands on his shoulders and slide them down to his elbows and he leans his head back, but still nowhere close mine.

It shall be the hug.

And my head against his back

Let it be the kiss

And let Christmas be New Year

For once

But it’s not once the clock strikes all it can

And the silence thickens

With the snow

And he closes his eyes

To drag the cigarette and a gone Christmas out

Jamie closes the window, not turning around and gripping the handles stronger, his fingers and even blue

Which I look upon

And want to kiss

But I don’t

And that becomes Christmas again

Forever

Because the wrinkles stay on his face after the snow melts and we hold, never ever kissing again.

Just holding.

A cry and a tear and a scream.

-

I actually really enjoy Christmas and I end up giving the opposite when I write xD

The Circle

Void

You open up to no one.

You make love to no one.

Sex becomes a functional word rather than something else, it’s making love to no one, it just slides out of you into the depth of no one as the stage and the faces mix, sometimes I see the outline, but I prefer not to

It’s like performing to death, birth and infinity

You don’t know what it is

It’s nothing

But it sees you

And you stroke your neck

No one strokes your neck

And your voice is there

And it doesn’t crack it fades into the dark

And you watch it slip

With age

To no one

Again

Ache Head