so all is fine.  Im not mad.  I mean I do it to.  Everyone does.  Some nights the loves just not enough.  The beds cold and their arms are far away.  The mind is a organ of variety. 

But the world is blue today, everything is wrong.  The bed is too soft, too warm.  The pavement too wet, too hard.  The clock ran too fast, but turned too slow.  Arriving for work, the bosses mouth moved and my ears turned deaf.  The bus was late, its seat too narrow.  In my bag the pasty popped, leaking over my books.  My period came at 9:40, with the loo shut for cleaning.   

And your words just wrong, too wrong today.  Maybe yesterday I would have laughed with you, but today its the reality of you wanting to come with someone else.  I dare say that if she and me were side by side youd chose me to fuck, but Im not there.   So you took her into your mind, a contrast to me; blond, Swede, energetic.  I can imagine how she would have been, what you would have made her do.  This is not telepathic ability, no you re-enacted in text with me in her place.  Thinking about it how, my body begins to hurt, tears swell, skin burns.  Thinking of you naked on the bed, hand moving fast, gripping in ownership as you think of her on all fours begging you to fuck her, like you said I would.  Her body sculpted in perfection. 

Im tired, bone tired.  The coke doesnt smooth the disgust in my throat, maybe a vodka would, but its only 11 and that would be losing it too much.  The razor calls promising marks no one would see, its not summer yet -the world is still blue.