Tag: DameUnique

Salty Saturdays: Reception – 06.02.2021

Reception – 06.02.2021

The reception was about as weak as waiting in the rain at London Victoria coach station.

I thought receptions were about a celebration of some kind, whether that be life, death or like earlier, love? Maybe, I’m not smart enough to comprehend the meaning behind them.

On the menu was a traditional Sunday roast: Chicken, potatoes, carrots and gravy. Only, what we were served was dried out chicken breasts, rock hard potatoes, cold carrots and watered down gravy.

My cold plate was washed out with cold hard objects, they labelled fine dining.

I was seated at a table with a pursed lipped smoker and her ashy fingers. Fingers that kept accidentally brushing my exposed skin and a wrinkled mouth that said, ‘forgive me, love. Your skin is so soft, I use the finest lotions on my own skin, see!’ then reaching out and grasping my hand. I lose count at the third attempt.

Now, I love apple crumble and custard but the crumble was more like a chunky apple sauce, with a crumble dusting. Topped off with cheap, lumpy, piping hot, sugary custard. My stomach was growling and the drinks were tasteless.

The reception was a damp attempt to please the masses.

Pocket

Interesting addition to the clothes I wear.

I add many things to this small, zipped, denim location.

Tissue, paracetamol, lip-balm, eye-drops, hand cream, lemon sherbet drops and a three page letter.

I wrote about 2020.

I transferred pain from my heart, to these pages, to my pocket.

I released everything. Yet, I keep memories folded and close by.

Maybe, they’ll wash away the deeper I stride into this scenic lake.

I’m blessed.

The only thing that matters is my birth.

Shock Therapy

I pretended to be elsewhere.

Really I was here, or rather nearby.

I stared into your main and vied for your attention.

I didn’t sleep until? Well, never.

I relied upon the moment and the stupidity of ‘good advice.’

I floated back down to my senses and made a cup of tea.

HE

He fucked the world.

That bitch shed a tear.

He fucked the world and I whispered in the ears of many.

He fucked the world and I never gave any. ‘Fucks that is.’

He fucked the world and blessed them with his fuckeries!

The fuck he came back like, ‘bitch! I’m right here.’

I doused him with petrol and set his soul on fire.

I smiled at his inability to comprehend his fate.

Be around for amusement.

No goodbyes when you fall below standard.

There’s not enough air on this Earth for you to continue.

I fucked up your life and urinated over your death.

I am the angel you prayed for.

Untitled

They would like to participate in your event when they’re riding along for free.
They tag along right beside you when the attention is warm, and the vibe feels right. I guess I automatically become a log fire, lit and burning bright during the winter nights.

Until nothing but cold ash moves gently, like a man that just been shot five times in his right leg. Then pain is evident, but the blood eventually starts to curdle.
I know nothing.
I know that I know nothing.
I know you’re tired of thinking it.

They limp beside me in fake association when I call out for help. The dialogue translates into this:
Me: Help me!
Them: I’m here.
Me: The problem is…
Them: I’m here to help but I’ve just got to run home and turn off the oven. I’ll be right back!

11 days later
Me: #Winning
Them: Hey! Hope you’re well. I was just thinking about you.
Me:

Deep in the forests, they shaded life away from my existence.
Out on the open road, they would like to ride shotgun.
Far into the ocean heads are held underwater for a least 11 minutes.

Look up into the sky and watch me glide over my consciousness.