Hallucinate

Ah, there she is.

I thought at first it was a joke, but no.

Drink enough and you will see them.

Ghosts of the pass.

She’s so vivid.

3 dimensional and I can smell her sweet perfume in the air.

"Madame. Dearest. How have you been? I’ve missed you and it’s been awhile. Have you come to lecture me?"

“Yes, of course”, she replied.

She always did love to play teacher.

“You shouldn’t drink so much”

"Why?"

"It’s a Sunday"

"So?"

"You’re young"

"And?"

"Keep yourself alive, I want you."

"No. We’ve talked about this. You let me go, not the other way round."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As she spoke she crossed those legs of hers I could smell her pussy on the air and it drove me wild, she was my heroine.

"So, No money, half a job, and a full pint of beer?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you arse, you don’t have to be here."

"Yeah?"

"Well, yeah, so, you’ve got work. Don’t just sit here and drink. You know how many melodies there are. But no, you, you like the melody."

She was always like this, speaking in tongues.

"What melody?"

"The drunks. When you sit in a bar and just listen, you can hear them; barking and murmuring, and singing about nonsense, they always do; they’re like you."

"Fuck you."

"Well, they are. Talking about music, or whatever political moves have hurt their job aspirations."

"Listen— listen here because we’re in public and I don’t give a fuck if I hit you, the truth is— you don’t give a fuck either. I’m fed up."

"Of?"

"You"

"No, you’re not. You want this pussy. You want these legs. You wants this tight little ass too"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well maybe I do? Maybe that’s all I want but you can’t keep slating me like that. I have a job and friends, and prospects. Don’t treat me like some bum— I work my ass off."

“You’re a deadass poet and you know it. You hate where you are. You hate your own being. Why don’t you just think for yourself?"

"Well I do"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Show me"

"Well I think you a slut and your pussy stinks"

"Fuck you, cunt!"

That moment I realised I loved her, that voice, that look.

She was a teacher and she made me feel like a shit, I loved that, she owned me.

"Sorry for speaking the truth, is what is, but, I couldn’t say that of course. So what?"

She smacked me.

I loved her even more.

This desire to hurt her to piss her off, to make her feel like it was just me and her, that’s what drew me to her.

"Listen, cunt. I’m done. I’m not real. I’m only here because you want me to be. You left me, remember? Now you’re a sad fuck, dreaming of pussy you could have forever and you’re wondering why I’m here? You’re lonely, obviously, cunt."

God, I wanted her then.

She smacked me.

“Fuck you”, she said.

"Oh… yeah please....."

So the invisible girl got up and as soon as I turned my head she vanished.

Damn, I thought.

She had a real way of winding me up. She could get in there deep, damn botfly that she is.

Of course, I never know who it was that was speaking. She was just me, wasn’t she; all blue and velvet, and mouth and lungs.

Well.

Well, still, she left and–

Well, I thought about her,

In her tight leggings and dress and damn.....damn that beer was good.

Maybe I'll have another?

You hear that baby?

Maybe I'll have another.