I don't write. I create.
At first glass on a bright sunny day, the colours consume you, in awe, some may say.
Through the core of a black woman, radiating pure love.
Incomparable to the rings around her, due to hatred from eyes self-positioned above.
Push through.
Push forward.
Educate all and any along the way.
Allow the strength of your soul to shine through, your stained glass heart, always.
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There are times I’ve deleted whole conversations, in an attempt to forget the hurt they’ve caused.
Imposed a block on social media, to hide away from emotions exposed.
Laidback and did nothing, to try to forget.
Permeated through bedsheets, fear had me losing sleep.
Inactive is my status, so you experience no notion of my turmoil.
You created this.
You caused this.
You impressed this.
You developed this.
You.
You strangled my words with this.
I lay still as a baby lamb 4 hours after being slaughtered.
Fuck how I feel – it’s all apart of your culture.
Once I let go,
I let go,
I let go.
In an instant, I would push your soul into an active volcano.
My mind is awesome for the same reasons it’s not.
Memory x Detail x Accuracy
Pain upsets me.
Are my thoughts distorted?
Is this the start of my downfall?
Am I operating on notion?
Pain opens me up, I convulse and I transmit. What/who/when did this pain commit?
Times I’m distraught are the times my rage is caged. It’s all in my head and I hate to say this, but I’ve come close to…
Strange how I hold on to pain. I dispel it throughout my writing and relive nightmares again.
The car was operated from the rear left wheel. It was a whole mini car as a stand-alone piece.
I remember every word.
Images are too vivid in my mind.
It’s the fear I felt at the time, the emotional hurt.
If you’re in my past and I’ve not included you.
Stay there.
I’ve moved on.
I’ve flown away.
Undiluted in the skies above.
You’ll taste me when it rains across the lands where you reside.
I’ll forget your purpose in my life over time.
Welcome to mid-October!
Over several days I’ll be sharing creative pieces from The Pain Series.
After preparing a post for World Mental Health Day and abandoning it, then preparing a new one. I thought about the times I’ve felt pain in my life and how I’ve dealt with that emotion.
During my time reflecting this weekend, I felt inspired to produce a mini-series on pain. It’s an emotion in life that we are all destined to experience. I can’t tell you how many times, as it will differ for each of us. However, I felt compelled to put PAIN into words and creatively articulate this emotion.
No one in our entire universe is absolved from pain. It forms a vital part of our lives and shapes our behaviour from that moment forward.
To me, pain is painful and sometimes that pain becomes a burden that overstays, long after its point has been made. Some moments in my life came unexpected and it’s true, I’ve cried a hundred times over, to no avail.
This October, I share the pain born from life itself.
Dame Unique
I pissed on your driveway.
I posted on the gram.
I saw your post.
I stole Ben from you.
Ben came willingly.
He said, ‘I hate him too Unique,’ and shared your secrets creatively.
We plotted against you.
We dreamt of vengeance.
We counted your networth.
We sold it with ease.
33%
Ben and I are best friends.
Last Sunday, we pissed on your driveway.
Thank time it’s Friday.
Time always goes on.
I dreamt you fell and needed my help AGAIN.
I pee’d on your head instead.
I’m awful. I know.
No sorrow.
Cider, Cider, Cider, Cider. CIDER-UPPERCUT
Spinning-bird-kick!
Cider gains.
Yoga flame.
19 shame.
Designer fame.
Playing games.
Shaken mind frames
They died again.
We were never truly friends.
Murky ends.
I bleed again.
And again.
And again.
Until my untimely end.
Hugged it until it passed out.
Cut its back, left hoof off.
It screamed at me and I shout.
‘You’re a liar!’
I remember I said that.
It kicked out at me. Then ran far away.
Live in my roof.
I’m awake at 0230 because of the elephants.
Stomping.
Weed smoking aka drug dealing.
I live in a thin walled building.
I hear at least two elephants.
Trumpets.
She talks so damm much.
Ssh!
My boobs are better.
I’m here for you and only you.
My back is stiff.
Arms are sore.
Erased you from my memory.
Haha!
It never happened.
Who are you?
Stop it.
You awful titled person.
Your status means fuck all to me.
In this realm you don’t exist.
I once ?
Did absolutely nothing.
No idea what I’m even typing.
Don’t read this shit.
Imma call the police.
DAMM
I’ve got an empty bottle.
More wine in the fridge but that’s like in the kitchen.
Call the authorities!
I never watched your channel – I followed the bean.
Jack is on my ass.
Fucking giants on the gram.
Is my fridge still open?
Fuck it! The food can fade to off mode.
The wine will stay in place.
YouTube.
Ah! Fuck it.
I am Ironman.
Ted Hughes gave birth to…
