Block

I’m sitting in a BMW i8.

It’s black with electric blue around the wheels and the headlights.

The seats are leather and heated, my ass is warm.

I’m sipping a cup of hot-chocolate made with oat milk. Cows milk is for baby cows.

All windows are up, I hate the sounds of those grotty voices nearby.

Does it look like my car needs cleaning?

Only me and I’m stuck.

Is there ever traffic at 0333 hours?

I’m not moving.

Engulfed in thought processes.

Delinquent of 70% responsibilities.

I’m not a passenger.

I’m not a red light.

I’m not another car in a queue.

I’m not even there.

The Butterfly Series by Dame Unique

Welcome to The Butterfly Series!

A collection of creative pieces about transformation and mental growth. With this collection, I share with my readers moments of change that has occurred both within and around my life.

Some pieces derive directly from my heart, whereas other pieces flow out of my mind at a pace I have no control over.

I’m truly thankful for everyone that has assisted with the rise of my inner phoenix. I agree, 2020 has been a challenging year for all the inhabitants of this earth. However, life is about growing, understanding and expressing your soul.

This collection is for all the stars that glow in the night sky.

Thank you for reading!

Love Unique

Nightmare Series: Two Options

Water one.
Ignore the other.

Feed one.
Banish the other.

Praise one.
Lie to the other.

‘My one and only, I love you, baby.’

What about the other?
What about the other?
What about the other?

You never truly cared…

One night as you sleep peacefully with the one you chose.

The other will wake you with their screams of betrayal – it’s the lies that hurt the most.

You won’t have time to react as they’ve stabbed an ice-pick through your trachea.

The other went on to reap blessings in abundance.
The other went on to reap blessings in abundance.
The other went on to reap blessings in abundance.

It was 3 weeks before anyone noticed production had come to a halt. The one flew far away with cash filled in a rucksack and a statement on Wiki.

The other made a video about liars: ‘remember, telling lies is bad for your health and well-being. It ruins endless memories and life opportunities!’

The other scratches the end of their nose and whispers, ‘the other will always rise above you. Cut you out.
Cut you out.
Cut you out.’

YouTube

I once ?

Did absolutely nothing.

No idea what I’m even typing.

Don’t read this shit.

Imma call the police.

DAMM

I’ve got an empty bottle.

More wine in the fridge but that’s like in the kitchen.

Call the authorities!

I never watched your channel – I followed the bean.

Jack is on my ass.

Fucking giants on the gram.

Is my fridge still open?

Fuck it! The food can fade to off mode.

The wine will stay in place.

YouTube.

Ah! Fuck it.

I am Ironman.

Ted Hughes gave birth to…

Maybe Baby?

Maybe I’ll pretend I can’t see the see she pollution pouring out your mouth.

Baby, I can smell the shit around your lips.

Maybe, I’ll pretend I don’t know you. But baby, please read a book.

Maybe, it’s true you’re wealthy! Only, baby, I don’t entertain ignorance.

Maybe, I’ll slip into a black fitting ensemble, diamond choker and have breakfast at Tiffany’s?

Baby, I’m out of your league,

Mentally,

Spiritually

Realistically.

Best wishes with your future endeavours.

Unique

KAREN

Dear Karen(s)

I hear your complaints.

I see your complaints.

I smell your complaints.

As an existing form of life, you are worthless.

Your thoughts are nonsensical.

Your vision is white.

Your tactics are deployed when you wish to step on those with rich hues.

LIAR

LIAR

LIAR

Karen, I see you form gangs in offices.

Karen, I see you form gangs in apartment blocks.

Karen, I see you form gangs at BBQs.

Karen, I see you form gangs in the supermarket.

Karen, I see you form gangs during annual leave.

Karen, I hear you cry wolf to authority.

Karen, I hear you cry wolf to the police.

Karen, I hear you cry wolf to other white people.

Karen, I hear you cry – I see no tears.

Karen, I see you on your vigilante escapades.

Karen, I see you acting like a victim in our society.

Karen, I see you bulling people with rich skin tones.

Karen, I see you hitting people with beautiful skin tones.

Karen, I see you pull a gun!

SHAME

SHAME

SHAME

Karen, you’re racist!

Karen, you’re prejudice.

Karen, you’re ignorant.

What a waste of precious heartbeats – Unique

The Glass Lift

We stepped into a corner of an envelope. It was glass and went to the top.

I felt afraid because this contraption was familiar but never seen like this.

4 segments with a square shaft, going up and zooming down, all made of transparent glass.

I stepped in after you and we shot up. I feared for our lives.

I stretched my arms out as if my fingers would keep me in place.

At times I thought the glass would shatter and we would fall from the sky, painfully flaying limb by limb as we both fade away and die.

Homeowners

‘Unique, why rent when you can buy your own house. Renting is wasted money.’

Unique- so, you own your own house?

‘Yes, I pay £400 PCM on a mortgage.’

HOMEOWNERS

A mortgage is a glorified loan. Don’t lecture me about my money.

You don’t own shit until you own every brick, not 34% of it. Outright ownership, legit shit.

So the next time you wanna preach to me about why I rent. My money is my money and every penny is well spent.

Acknowledge this:

My life is not bankrolled by handouts.

My home isn’t funded by an ex.

My home wasn’t gifted to me because I have a baby.

I’ll always earn my way and pay for my life. I don’t need a man or a fucking mortgage – I’m independent.

HEAT

📸Unique

I have nothing summery to wear or nothing that would be deemed summer-ish!

So, I found an old pair of shorts and an even older vest top. I changed into this ensemble after my shower and strolled around my home, feeling like a super-star!

No, it’s true, I have no bra on.

It’s too hot!

Who wants to wrap their breasts into a bra, a burgundy bra, a burgundy lace bra? ‘Not I’ said Unique.

Said me. Said I.

Picture this:

I’m sprawled out on my Livingroom rug, windows wide open and enjoying a mild cool breeze flowing down and over my body. I remained on my back for a moment and this moment was like 45 minutes long.

     My breasts are free and breathing deeply. What? You never knew that breasts could breathe? Haha, I’m referencing my deep inhales and exhales.

I’m speaking about airflow.

Laying here I’m undisturbed, my phone is on flight mode and at the bottom of a bedroom drawer. You know, the drawer filled with panties I only wear when menstruating. Yeah, I don’t mind telling you about it – all my panties are clean and hold the sweet aroma of cherry blossom.

After 45 minutes I get up and head into the kitchen. Grab a bottle of water, open it and add a few drops of lemon juice. I take a deep gulp and feel renewed.

My home is hot, but not all rooms the coolest is the bathroom. But what writer do you know spends the day in their bathroom, writing? But it’s so cool, so I sat in there for 8 minutes at a time.

It would never be considered as strange, as no one need know – until you.

Right now, I’m writing about my day and about the heat that rose through my heart into my veins and through to my keyboard. I’m not the best writer in the world, my mistakes in writing are glaringly obvious – I’m not hiding from you. I’m proud of who I am and how my life is evolving!

My creative nature contains no restrictions. Sometimes I write from my heart, other times I write from my mind, today I write from my body – I write from my breasts.

Suck on that for a moment, I’m still melting…

Bite Me

📸Unsplash

I sleep and I sleep and my periods of sleep are often deep.

I wiggle and I turn and above my quilt, I look like a giant worm.

I groan and I grunt and I roll but I do not spin.

I flip back my covers and smack my leg, as I swear I’ve been bitten!

Some nights are hot.

Some mornings are cold.

I whirl around inside my mind as reality unfolds.

I jump up and hit the light, scanning the sheets I had jumped off.

I can’t see anything – maybe I’m crazy? Maybe I’m still asleep?

Sometimes I sweat, other times I mumble.

‘Fuck this fucking shit! Fucking old mattress, I hate it!.’

I once stripped the bed and put everything into a hot wash.

I covered my mattress in baking-soda, as the man on YouTube said to do that.

I left it for hours…I vacuumed up most of the grains of white.

I covered my mattress with a full cover – one that seals it in tight.

I dripped mint oil all over, as the woman on YouTube said it works wonders.

I slipped into bed and for a moment, I slept peacefully.

SMACK!

I slapped my calves, jumped out of bed, hit the lights, grabbed the torch and went close with my eyes.

I saw nothing.