Author: Unique

I don't write. I create. #EveryHeartbeatCounts

Object: Tissues

I saw you on the shelf and I wasn’t sure if I needed you, but I picked you up and paid for you anyway, as I felt I wanted to.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I opened you up and pulled you out of your blue and yellow home. I had been crying profusely, my heart ached, and I felt at a loss without the man I called love.

My nose was runny, and my tears blended in with snot. My lips smothered in my liquid waste, dripping down onto my chest and becoming a recent memory.

There you are to mop up my sadness and capture my snot. I appreciate you tissue, I value you a lot.

Due Date

You should’ve been ready before the end of February, but I could not figure you out.

3000 words was all I needed to create you and express you out, in the form of ink and paper.

Fury, you’re driving me crazy.

Short stories take forever…

Pointless Possibilities

I thought about our conversation and felt compelled to share my emotions with you.

I like you.

Well, I think I do?

My hair is a mess and my face is full of spots, but you said you didn’t care, ‘Unique, you’re beautiful.’

I have walls up and I feel you trying to break them down. I’m not sure how I feel about that, I don’t know if I want love around.

Haircut

I was young and trusting and I trusted you to do my hair.

To braid it up and make me feel pretty.

But you cut my hair at night-time, you cut my hair as I slept.

Auntie B, you’re a BITCH!

I woke up and wept.

I hate your existence; I despise your blood type.

Don’t speak Unique into your life, when you see my name in print and online.

I’ll write about how disgusting you are and how unfortunate I couldn’t pick my family.

I’ll emphasize your ability to be a whore and work legit at the same time.

Technically you’re listed as an aunt on my tree, but bitch you’re no family of mine!

I’m Here

It wasn’t so long ago

I pinged you

I texted

I called

I hoped

I prayed

Today I heard you ask our universe for me to return, I heard you beg.

Too late, you should’ve replied with accuracy.

Later…

I never spoke of you.

Your name is not worthy of my voice. But I wrote about you because writing is love and not a choice.

Next Door

pixabay

Next door, to my left, lives a man that plays music loud in the morning. Every morning I’m mourning for good music that has since passed.

Next door, to my right, lives a couple and the fight most nights. He slams doors and she cries. Every night I’m screaming inside for a moment’s silence to record ASMR right.

In Other News: I Miss You

I miss your face

Your voice

Your sex

I miss your number because the law states always delete an ex

I miss you!

In other news, I remember when you stared into my eyes and lied

I remember when you silenced your voice, silent abuse made my love subside

I recall sex was? I don’t remember

Who the fuck were you? Dinner companionship last December? Nah!

You were, are and always will be a bitch!

I forgive you not, because forgiveness makes me slip…into the realm of your nonsense, remember you had no sense. Immune to my plight of neglect, yeah, your emotions were senseless.

In other news: I now know how to read minds.