I don't write. I create.
I was waiting.
I had waited, years upon years to meet you.
You arrived warm and beautiful.
I wish you could’ve seen you.
Holding you tightly for a moment, but never forever.
Tears fall silently onto you – My baby, one day we’ll be together.
Can you show me your heart and I’ll show you mine?
I want us to compare love, especially at this time.
Can you show me your mind and I’ll teach you about life?
I want us to compare thoughts, even more so this time.
Can you show me your memories and I’ll tell you my story?
I want us to compare history, although history is history.
If ever there was a day to reflect, I hear Saturday is the worst day to select.
It’s usually busy and predictable.
But would you bet on a Saturday to meditate? Mediate? Or simply to differentiate from the time we already have allotted to us?
I guess that’s a question for you to facilitate?
I once bought a silk scarf for 99p. I wrapped it around my head, to protect the edges of my hairline from fading away.
I woke up, and it was gone…
Crow returned around lunchtime, boasting how amazing the silkworms that made my new scarf were delicious. He offered me one, I declined.
That night I went to bed and laid my head upon a cotton covered pillow. It was a sleepless night; I longed for the softness of silk to wrap me up with its delicate hold. I know it’s cruel to want something that was not made for me.
I woke up and at the foot of my Queen-sized bed, lay the head of a man I once called twice a week. Crow seemingly had been dancing on his nose for some time, as his tiny claw marks seemed deeper around the eyes but more expansive on his chin, than any other part of his previously handsome face.
Worms moved in and out of his fleshy neck, ‘Not silkworms Unique, only maggots!’ said Crow.
His sapphire eyes glinted in the morning sun, and he asked me if we could buy a new freezer?
I replied, ‘Crow, my dear, the day you stop surprising me with random pieces of people, I’ll buy you a new freezer.’ He dug his beak into the right eye of this body-less person and squawked, ‘But I love life!’
I have a backpack, and inside I packed: A black A4 2020 diary, a hippy print diary, pack of sanitary towels enclosed in a floral pouch, pack of spicy noodles, four highlighters, one blue pen, two red pens, one black pen that has run out of ink, a 50th birthday card, half-eaten cheese sandwich, hairbrush, a book by Chuck Palahniuk, a beige glasses case with green glasses enclosed, iPad, overused iPad charger, hand cream, a tub of basil and tomato pasta-bake, cherry flavoured Carmex, a tiny wooden duck named Jane, a bottle of water, a pack of Biscoff biscuits, a used PostIt note some random guys number barely legible and a jar of hope.
I’m covered in skin.
Why do you fall over and expect someone to help you up?
Why do you drink whisky from a mug and not a glass?
Why do you think about me when you’re lonely?
Why do you think about me when you’re cold?
Why do you think about me, as if I exist? I died a thousand hours ago.
Cherry in my smoothies.
Cherry on my lips.
Cherry kisses for my new love.
My new love…
The sweet sensations you deliver to me, through conversation and genuine talk.
Cherries in hand, a squeeze or two with you.
Cherry.
My future love he exists.
My heart is healing from fake love in the near past.
Love is near.
Cherry.
I pray that you get everything I could not give to you.
I pray that you do well.
I pray for you.
Crow cackles in the short distance, and out he coughs ‘Liar, liar! Atheist! Atheist.’
His sapphire blue eyes turn fiery red, and he flies down and lands on Unique’s head.
She’s kneeling at the grave of a love that never existed, for she pays her respects. But Crow cheers her for being a hypocrite.
Atheist! He caws before landing on the fresh mount of dirt.
‘Here lies a foolish man who is now home to my snacks, worms and maggots and the odd juicy rat!’
A fake tear falls from the right eye of Unique. Crow turns quickly, and it lands on his beak.
‘I love you, Unique.’
Hey friend! How are you today?
I wonder if you could help me, please?
I have this idea that transpired from an arm stretch, and I wish to bend tomorrow.
I want it to curve and wrap itself around me, as I know it will be tremendous and meshed into the sea.
Tonight I’ll pick five stars from our wealthy universe; I’ll ground them with my elbows and sprinkle them all over your house.
Join me now.
I’m not texting anyone.
I’m sitting in silence on an empty field, staring into the clouds. My eyes are swimming away through the blue skies.
I feel my phone vibrate, but I’m a feeling in disguise.
Sugar poured through my DMs with offerings of joy and money.
Sugar said, ‘Unique, I want you!’
Sugar said, ‘decide now or never?’
I licked my lips and pondered about sending sexy pics. But how many pairs of boobs are available on Google?
Sugar sprinkled around my DMs offered sweet talk but no therapy.
I deleted his messages.
For hours upon hours, I called out for Crow.
No answer, no sounds nothing at all.
A recluse most of the time, I tend to stay inside.
But outside I venture and find Crow coming up out of the throat of Mrs Bullington. Covered in bile and seeds, out came his little head.
He said, ‘Unique, Unique, she had taken the last Rolo!’
Goes by and eventually a week turns into forever.
I’m precious don’t touch me.
To love you before.
Dress up, because dressing down is impossible for you.
Pose for the cam.
Post on the gram.
Hashtag I am and credit yourself as a somebody.
Surrounded by opportunity, I do not envy you.
Influence me bitch and live your life as a star.
Unique wanted to become a Scientist.
A Singer.
A Chef.
A Cashier.
A Lawyer.
A Teacher.
A Manager.
A Coach.
A Fashion Designer.
A Vet.
A Shop Keeper.
A writer.
Unique wanted to become a Writer.
I said a Writer.
Unique wanted to become a Writer.
I’ll always be here.
I’ll always answer.
I’ll always listen.
I’ll always wait.
I’ll always offer.
I’ll always wonder.
I’ll tell you everything.
You must be logged in to post a comment.