Jamie

Jamie...I still think about you. 

I still think about your ivory skin, 

how your brown eyes danced with intensity and enticement. Making men like me unfaithful to our wives and shaming our children. 

Jamie...I can’t get the scent of you out of my head,

our how your breast felt heavenly,

handfuls in my grasp..and your lips tasted like sin and regret. 

Like blood and chocolate. 

Jamie...I am lonely without you. 

I walk by people and I feel like I am drowning..but I’m breathing.

I have this sadness in me that physically makes my ribs and chest hurt.

I have to almost swallow my screams inside my body, ripping through my mind. 

Jamie...I started cutting again. 

I try not remembering our past,

try to not remember how your embrace felt, how soft your skin was or how your moans were like fireworks inside my soul. 

How in the moment, tangled up in your red satin sheets, your body talking to my body, 

we were invincible, head-over-heels in love... we were fools. 

We were fools because after the glamour, the “I love you more” stages, the honeymoon, the pillow talks, or the make up sex...after all of the inside jokes, the secrets we told, the things we did….it all tore me apart and I had to act like it didn’t bother me...while you moved on. 

Jamie...I still remember your number. In fact I call it, 

I use different numbers and I never say anything once you answer...all I want to do is hear your voice. 

That’s why tonight,

I am going to kill you...because if I can’t have you no one will. 

Because after 6 years of just watching you live your life...I want to play a part. 

I want to be the one who lays in your bed...and not this guy who cheats on you every saturday night when he is playing “poker.” 

I bought tools today to disassemble your body. It’s funny how the thought is turning me on. 

Maybe I won’t kill you, maybe I will just keep you hostage in my house. Buy you a maid outfit so you can cook and clean for me…

Jamie...why can’t I let you go. 

Why does no other women satisfy me. 

Why, 

when a girl is riding me do I picture your face instead of hers,

or your voice instead of hers,

or before I cum,

why does your name escape my mouth

Jamie...why did I have to meet you.