Poetic Imagination
I Think Her Name was Cally


The Pot Smokers Guide to the Planet Varpeth
The Rejection
Wanna Feel Your
Legacy of Whatever Felt Fine
I Think Her Name was Cally
Schools darkest moments relived in a daydream
Two inches wide by three inches deep
Who is Jaystone?
Beautiful Suicide
How to Get Happy
56 Chevy and Thoughts of dad
Pictures of my sexy motherfucking ass!
The Grand Design of Morbidity
Untitled One
Who I am
Links and other abnormalies
Contact Me
Order Page for New Book Poetic Imagination
Trials of an Infant Drifter
Alien English
Catching Falling Angels
She Sleeps
Lonely Dog

another story which may or may not be true

Her Name Was Cally

By Jaystone

Simple things in life are disturbing, this I have to admit. Maybe everything would disappear if I will it away. Nothing seems to be what I represent. I try in life, but does life try for me? I could sit here and tell you bullshit stories about how I was abused as a child, how drugs influenced my life, how I have raped and murdered 15 women. Would this make you wanna meet me? Probably not, but hell it was worth a shot.

I am a monster created by the all-seeing Madison avenue. I have pondered the greatness of god, and I realize he bores me. Why should I worship someone or something that has made me into the shit I am? Fuck god and Jesus, or whomever everyone seems to worship. I am god, isnt this what Shirley McLain stated? I am in control of my life. Nothing controls me.

My erratic thinking has me perplexed. I never chose to be like this, they chosen me. These women. You know the ones who I had to rape and murder. They didnt want to be my companion. I know give me your theories of serial killers, and how they need a companion. No, I am not a fag. I detest those fuckers, but I guess they are ok as long as they dont wanna stick their cocks in my ass or mouth. Back to my thinking. Sorry for getting off on those gay people.

I think the one girl I murdered whose name was Cally I think, meant a lot to me. She was my friend. All the others seemed distant. Cally had red hair, small breasts and a nice round ass, and wore glasses. We met at the Jesse James Saloon. I saw her and realized she was the one. I had to have her. I know you think I am being selfish, fuck you. I needed her. I bought her a Southern Comfort and Mountain Dew, which is what she was drinking. I also ordered myself one.

We sat and talked about everything. She has three kids, two boys ages 6 and 4 and a girl 3. I told her how I always wanted kids, and that I cant have any. Really I do love kids. She was so nice. I fell in love her at first sight I believe. She just had that attraction which made my heart thump like a drum. Know what I mean. I asked her if she wanted to go to a dinner and movie. She was eager. We set up our date for the next Friday.

Our date went well. We ate at the Bluff View. I had a sirloin steak well done, with salad bar. She had a porterhouse I believe with the salad bar. We drank some cheap ass wine disguised as a fancy label. I wanted her. I needed her. But I think our attraction was not mutual. I think she was using me for my money. I barely had enough for the date, but I think she thought I was rich. This had me perplexed. Did she only want me for material gain, or did she love me for who I was?

We went two weeks before we got in touch again. I was scared she never wanted me. I wrote her poetry in my notebooks. I will recite you one if you want.


She was as the most high,

Eager and willing to give me desire,

I stand in her chapel destined for love

Giving her my will to become as one

Her face made me melt

Her body made me feel heat

I needed her soul for my collection

A treasure I cant rid of

She wants it I know

I will have her

She will have me

We will become as one.

Lovely poem huh. I write shit all the time. I really meant what I wrote. I would have her.

I called her house and left messages about 45 times. I would call, her son would answer, and I would grow nervous and said I would call back. I am a morose of a man. I cant seem to grasp that I can be who I want to be.

I drove up to her house on February the 9th. A Monday I believe. She was alone. Her kids were in school and daycare. I asked her if she wanted to go to eat some lunch. She went. We ate at a Mcdonalds. I then knew that this was my chance to have her. As we went to my car, I pulled a .45 and held it to her head. I said I hate to do this Cally, but you are now mine. She was in fear I could tell, and I hated to make her shed a tear. After all I loved her.

My place was a mess. I tied her up in the master bedroom and I began to force my love upon her. We made love, even though she was crying. I didnt know why she was crying. I thought she wanted my love. I knew I wanted hers.


I kept her well fed. I am not an animal as everyone in your fucking media thinks. I took care of her. Ok I will tell you the details now. She somehow got the gag I had in her mouth out. She began to scream. I told her to please be quiet. I pleaded with her. She began kicking and screaming. I fucking panicked. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the sink, which was used when I cut a cake I bought on the clearance rack. I took the knife and plunged it to her throat. Please Cally be quiet. I pleaded. She refused and I in order to keep her had to kill her. Give me a moment please.

I stabbed her about thirty times. She was dead on the first jab, but I needed to be sure. Her death was the death of me, which is why I turned myself in to you officers. She is in my closet wrapped in a new dress and new blanket. If you go there please tell her I love her, and that I am sorry. She may not talk to you, but I know she will listen. Ok. Thank you.