K.

From the files of Crow.

May 20—

Unique why do you shake, breathe deeply and not speak?
‘K’
Did what to you? Where? What did they seek?
‘K’

A little black ball of feathers turns red like the mist surrounding danger!

How dare he! How dare they!
‘K’

Now you’re crying, and they’re lying, he’s lying to be precise. I will cut him; I will pierce him, I will chop him up and make meaty ice!

‘K’
Fuck K!
Fuck K!
There’s no ‘K’ in Crow.
Fuck his title!
Fuck his life; K will breathe no more.

It makes me angry!
I will get revenge.
For you, Unique, vengeance will lead to a glorious end.

‘K’

For three whole days, Crow flew, and he flew. He located the ‘K’ and extracted a bloody dew. Drop by drop he drank and her cursed. ‘Bad behaviour around Unique, blesses the cunt with a curse. Apologies K, I’m King Crow. I’ll start with your left eye and then tear your baby toes.’

He did as he spoke.
He drank, and he cackled.
He pecked, and he poked into holes he created.

He hopped onto the big toe and inscribed Crow deep within the ankle.

K pleaded and pleaded as his life slipped away. Unbalance Unique and Crow will ensure you pay.

Unique Has No One

Unique has no one.

All she has is a diary, a pen and an idea.

Unique has no one.

All she has is that foul ball of feathers.

That rotten shadow of evil.

Unique is pathetic.

I mean, who do you know hangs around with birds?

Unique is useless; all she does is post a poem a day on WordPress.

But who reads her shit?

Unique is a stupid bitch.

Beyond the rants of hidden figures, a lone crow waits in silence, all you hear is his tiny heartbeat. His sapphire blue eyes twinkle outside the bedroom window of one. With his beak, he cuts through the double window pane. The occupant throws a copy of Birthday Letters by Ted Hughes at Crow, they shake and explain, ‘it’s all for social media! I do it for likes! I love Unique, I do.’

Crow glides across to the occupant’s desk and states, ‘only the unbelieving would be so ridiculous to make such comments.’ The occupant apologises profusely, but Crow proceeds to prove his point.

‘Unique has me!’ Crow declares as he slowly carves around the iris of the lone occupant.

‘Unique has me!’ Crow whispers as he jabs deeply into the inner thighs of the occupant.

‘Unique has me!’ Crow sings while scratching the knees of the occupant.

Boyfriend

I’ve always wanted a boyfriend.

Yes, a boyfriend. Just one.

I get one.

We click.

Something and something.

We split.

But that’s not the end of it.

He wants to come back.

I say, no!

I say, maybe?

I say, yes.

Sex takes me out into our universe.

You are my universe.

I love our universe.

You fill only 70% of the void.

I need another.

Boyfriend.