From Jester To King XXXIII

There’s an impostor in my house and she’s out to get me. There’s a girl living in my house and I think she just wants to commune with me and make me happy to do whatever it takes to create a  normal loving relationship. I know her game. So brazen it makes my skin crawl. She cooks me food and affectionately picks off the cat hair from my jumper as we stand close by one  another in my minuscule kitchen. This girl dares to touch me, and to what end? To enjoy body and mind of the opposite sex as if she’s really a human. This girl has needs? The girl living in my house is a Spanish harlot with eyes of the devil and lips like Medusa’s. Need only stand straight and shoot me one look. Yes I really think that this woman wants nothing but to get to know me even have sex with me with no ulterior motive. The thought is so prurient it boggles my mind. What could she possibly want with me? But she keeps looking and flirting, keeps sending me heart-based emojis whenever she WhatsApps and there can be no other reason. But what could she want with me, I don’t understand it, this Spanish harlot. This isn’t a porno. Has to dress herself down to disguise her attractions. Wear shabby clothing. Legs up to her eyeballs. Those lips and those eyes. Smouldering. This girl is clean and quiet and doesn’t cause trouble. Respectful. Could pull me to pieces. But she doesn’t, chooses not to. Don’t know how she got here, what her game is. This poster girl, this F1 parade chick. I bet she’s even snogged Senna. She has these eyes which I fancy are like mine, so that if I were to really look into them and she into mine we’d both shatter to pieces. Don’t ask me how she got here. Wheedled her way in, with her nice clean and respectful ways, knew I’d give in. She simply asked me if she could live with me. These women and their wiles, their games, their cunning. The gall of them. Shameless. And how she pretends that she likes being with me and talking to me, my god what does she take me for? Me a shlub, she, Persian princess. Have any man she wants. No I won't sniff her knickers whilst she’s away, thought never entered my mind. I will not do all those perverted things I think she wants me to do. But why? Oh why? Why would she want them when she has her job and her food and her friends, her Skype, she doesn’t need anything else, you know what, they don’t need that, else she’d have it no? I refuse to be drawn in to this world of that word and touching, yuck, and then more of that and being in bed together, and what for? So she can take all my money and slit my throat? Could have any one she fancies. What would be the use of enjoying all of that? I owe it to myself to hold it together, stay strong, by the end I’ll get rewarded, I know it. In the end I shall prevail. She might not, but I know. There’s no point succumbing, I’m not a sucker. I’m not like the rest of them, refuse to give in.