Tag: CreativeWriting

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.

Missing

From the files of Unique

You arrived at my house in your animagus form. I can’t disclose what that is, as I know they will search for you.

You press your lips onto mine. I feel the transfer of nerves interrupt my chilled vibe.

Why are you so nervous?

I bite on your lower lip; I love kissing you and need to show you how much I’m in control.

Hours pass the both of us.

I wake up alone.

I once feared I would never see you again, and today marks that starting point.

The Box

Crow bought home a large box.

Added his homemade bagels to the box.

Sprinkled herb crust in the box.

Hopped around happy by the box.

Screamed at the box.

Rubbed on the box.

Purred by the box.

Confided some wet dreams to the box.

Added his shit to the box.

Laughed at the box.

Then stared at the box, until it caught flame and burnt down to nothing.

He explained, ‘Unique, I needed to clear my mind.’

I couldn’t shout at Crow. The box was pink, who likes pink?

Once the ashes had cooled down, I swept up the remnants of the box, scattering them into my velvet blue Dulux Box.

Crow Said YES

Crow Said YES

It was Sunday 23rd of February 2020 at 11:11 I discovered Crow could read minds. As he flew above me, he seemed quieter than usual. More focused.

I called up.

He flew down.

Landed on my right shoulder and said, ‘Unique, listen!’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Look at that fat bitch selling to that weird bitch.’

‘I’m looking.’

‘Can’t you hear them?’

‘Their mouths aren’t open; she looks like she’s browsing.’

His sapphire blue eyes stare intensely into my big brown eyes. He watches another person and then looks around.

‘Ah! I’m the chosen one.’

Crow sets off into the sky above and circles everyone as I walk by.

Can I short-change this blind customer?

Are Vegans stupid?

Does eating take way make you fat?

Can you cheat and not get caught?

He doesn’t wash, does he?

Crow, in delight that he can hear thoughts, shouts down to all.

YES!

YES!

YES!

DO IT!
YES!

The Dulux Box

It was delivered at 11:11 to my penthouse apartment.

I received the box and felt a sense of unease; it was blue, my favourite colour. But you never knew this, no one knew.

The box was velvet, which is a texture that makes my skin tingle. I hate it.

I sign for the box. Unique Dame.

I open it up and there it is, you did it.

I can’t say I’m proud of you. I wish you would leave me alone.

Well, leave me be. I’m happy.

When I said, I want your heart, not your money – I never meant your actual heart.

I assumed you were non-committal, and it would encourage you to disappear.

Crow had warned me months before, and he said: ‘Unique, your use of words can confuse the average man.’