
For every wrong move you make with me, you will suffer by three.
I don't write. I create.

For every wrong move you make with me, you will suffer by three.

Tonight
My head is tired.
My thoughts are on high-speed.
Abandonment is painful.
Everyone goes, eventually.
Trust is costly, and time is a trait of age.
I’m frozen with the memory that my writing was admonished for expressing my feelings. I’m cold with the thoughts that I thought you would never behave in this way.
Even knowing my trauma, you opened the curtains and re-enacted one of the worst things anyone has ever done in my life.
He saw I was down, injured by shards of misinterpretation. No! Misrepresentation! The information was ambiguous and clearly indicated a meeting.
I bled out, and he asked, ‘What are you up to?’
Then left me there for 24hrs.
Thankfully, I managed to get help. Miraculously, I survived the night. Regrettably, I sent a text. Notably, it went unanswered. Lazily, one word was sent in response. Secretly, I pondered over my next move.
I’m awake now. I reckon I’ll be okay. My new scars cover old scars, hiding my love for the unknown and perhaps the inconsiderate.
Tears are there, and a great escape is pending, but I push back. Well, step back. This is too much.
Now he’s gone.
Today is an extremely difficult day.
I want to cry, but my tears have yet to escape.
Today, I hurt.
People make life toxic! Where do I find the flow of clarity?
I want to cry now. Please.

As time proceeds and we experience the future, I discard all things associated with negative energy.
I accept that I shall walk alone, and I embrace new beginnings.
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No unwanted conversations or snakes burning their eyes out to forget how amazing I am.
The haters never congratulate; the fraudsters mingle and disassociate.
The pig oinks and climaxes over a bucket of fried chicken.
The haters whisper, trying to peddle a false narrative of success.
I remain silent.
No nasal intrusions; investigating lunch. Gone for a moment are the moments of the boring asking the same question, ‘But what next?’ Inside my mind, I hear laughter – my big brown eyes ask silently, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ I smile.
I remain silent.

Crow kicked the ball; it rolled and rolled.
Crow kicked the ball, and it rolled.
The meat inside had lied. He lied!
Crow kicked the ball, and it rolled.
The softball lied.
Gas was lit beneath, and Crow danced and danced.
Strike the match and dance some more.
Crow kicked the ball, and IT cried.
Crow kicked the ball, and it screamed.
Crow kicked the ball, and it died.


I arrived late on Wednesday and was upset.
I walked into an unoccupied room and let the tears flow to a man I don’t have much respect for – a man who has treated me like shit and stepped out of his role into a cloud of ignorance.
I was crying due to a range of emotions festering in my mind. After all, who wants to listen to the negative aspects of your life? Like, I am going through a lot right now, and my head was about to explode. Surprisingly, it helped. Thank you.
Then followed the slurry of colleagues asking more than once, ‘are you okay?’
I had not slept in over 24 hours, and my body felt like shutting down. My eyes flickered shut on the cusp of five-minute intervals, and I struggled to complete my shift. I understand some people have good intentions; however, after I have answered you twice! Why would you ask another three times?
Sometimes, you should read the space and mind your business.
Regards,
Unique

Thursday, 19 January 2023
14:07
I returned to work on Tuesday after taking one day off sick due to poor mental health.
I had people who don’t usually communicate with me outside of work, sending unsolicited messages—asking questions under the guise of concern.
On Wednesday, one said to me, ‘Are you okay? Because you don’t seem yourself!’
Me: ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking.’
Idiot: ‘Are you sure? Because you don’t seem yourself!’
Me: ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’
Idiot: ‘Are you sure? You just don’t seem yourself at all. I’m here if you need anything. If you need to talk, I mean, I’m, I’m right, here okay.’
Me: ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’
I mean, a return to work was completed with my Line Manager, So why do others feel they are now competent enough or even wanted in my personal space? Why do they feel entitled to know why I was off work? Even when I’ve politely shut the topic down, they still push for information.
I could not wait to get out and finish my shift. Yes, there are many obvious reasons for being employed. However, self-employment is the true path for me.
Others say they mean well; they’re just looking out for you. But I never ticked a box to say, hey, I accept nosey fake doctors in my life. We’re not even close like that – never have been, never will.
In addition to the above, I would not have returned if I did not feel ready, nor would I disclose my reasons for being off sick. In short, leave me the fuck alone.
Kind regards
Unique

Two nights ago, I dreamt about the meaning of the word vulnerable.
I realised I had misunderstood the meaning of the word. I was out by pages.
I stood up and apologised in the only way I knew best – through writing.
I have spent another twenty-four hours ruminating over the word’s meaning and actions.
I mean, I’m not the most intelligent form of existence.
You feel vulnerable with me.
What is happening is a fine blend of elements that take time to create.
Wax seal over the opening.

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