I don't write. I create.
Zone
Remember that area that you were not permitted to use.
But you trespassed anyway.
What are the rules to the unruly?
Words spoken, understood, never followed.
Remember that area you were not permitted to use.
But you asked too many questions.
What are words on paper categorised as law?
You heard everything and obeyed nothing.
Look at yourself.
Welcome, Unique!
Open Me
16.01.2020
Hey Unique,
I’m sending this email as I’ve noticed that you haven’t replied to any of my messages.
Why haven’t you responded?
Are you upset with me?
Have I done something to upset you?
I really hope you do reply! I’ve been wondering if you would like to meet up for lunch? Or maybe we could go for cocktails this weekend. But if you prefer lunch, then I do too.
Can’t wait to hear back from you.
Xo
**Meanwhile
Unique sits on a train heading up north to Edinburgh. She is sipping on Innocent orange juice while reading My Sister the Serial Killer.
Her phone is on flight mode.
Unique is listening to Beethoven, unbothered by life outside her mind.
Grey
I wanna lick your eyes yesterday, today and tomorrow.
I wanna lick your eyes now and tonight.
I wanna lick your eyes with my eyes closed.
I wanna lick your eyes, that is all.
I loved stroking your belly, I could stroke you forever.
I loved kissing your belly, I could kiss you forever.
I loved being close to you, our hearts beat on forever.
Now my face imprints on the fresh mound of soil that covers your final spot.
Too Much
The fertilisation.
The help.
The drama.
The unforgiving.
The depression.
The whiskey.
The work.
More drama.
The bullshit.
The lies.
The need.
The house.
The finesse.
Ro’ took what she wanted because you’re weak.
Balls balls, pop the sweetness into my mouth
Swirl them around a little before heading south
They cause me tingles and trembles, leaving my lips still.
Frozen balls of ice.
Think what you will!
📸: Pixabay
Trees
The carving was done by an amateur, but his eyes saw none.
He whined and held onto control, but his heart was done.
He spiked, he rooted he soiled within the soil.
He claimed pressure on priorities, they noted the TOIL.
His sides contained small pockets of rot.
Roots peeping near forget-me-nots.
The ants crawled up the squirrels scurried down.
A century of life forgotten as they chop off from the crown.
Through the skies, he falls, in silence from here.
The vibrations felt hard by the heartbeats quite near.
But Mr Jones needs a new couch.
A hundred years mean nothing when we want for ourselves.
Written by Unique Inspired by The Huntsman
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Mrs Pepperdew peppered you with spice.
Mrs Pepperdew peppered you how nice?
Mrs Pepperdew flummoxed you each time.
Mrs Pepperdew connected you through rhyme.
Mrs Pepperdew sang to you, with aromatic spices.
Mrs Pepperdew convinced you that you could sing. But Mrs Pepperdew mocked you, as crow swooped in, ripped your tongue out and tossed it into the fire.
It snapped, it crackled, it fizzed, and it banged.
Mrs Pepperdew sang and she sang, and she sang!
Forget my sapphire-blue hair, ruby-red lips and 34DDs.
Forget the calypso of Shea-butter oil, that exudes a sweet aroma from my hair.
Forget how I made you tingle all over, by delivering my honey kisses. When you longed for them, and when you dreamt about them. I always delivered.
Forget the moments of calm I instilled within a whisper.
Me talking you through the ways in which you will get through.
Me holding you tight and keeping you safe.
Me touching your mind in ways you never knew existed.
Me stroking you for hours and hours.
Not the aspects that you conveniently forgot about.
Not the conversations that floated off our tongues and into the universe.
Not the connection that was felt from our first exchange.
Not the star we built, shared and lost.
Forget me…not
The taser I used to keep us apart was simply for educational purposes.
I thought about adding zing into your steps. You know, make your heart beat again.
Only your stare is glassy and I haven’t seen you blink in hours.
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‪I died 1st‬
‪I woke, I worried, I wondered, I fed.‬
‪I worried more.‬
‪I pondered.‬
‪I identified. I stressed.‬
‪I tapped, I thought.‬
‪I cried. I cried. I imploded, I scowled. ‬
‪I was vex.‬
‪It was a mess.‬
‪You had lied.‬
‪I dispatched our connect.‬
‪She died 1st.‬
‪#Poetry #CreativeWriting‬
We are two people.‬
‪Separate.‬
When together we form one. (Ish)
Hugs everlasting and memorable.
Warm.
Secure.
Until I got scared and lied to you.
I lied profusely.
I invented stories.
I acted, by reacting to things what I said happened.
I made sure you saw everything.
All I wanted was more of this.
Instead it dwindled.
I transformed into a honey badger and clawed away at your ankles until they snapped and you fell.
I ran away.
I shrunk myself down and grew long black wings. I felt more balanced and well rounded.
I flew through the forest and found you eating wild mushrooms.
I saw bandages holding your ankles blood supply in tact. I shuddered at what I put you through.
I flew on.
And on.
And on.
Until my heart stopped! I fell from the sky disgracefully. Right into an area of quicksand.
You can’t see me.
Hey Sweetie,
See me waving rapidly and grinning like Bean. I’m elated to see you and enjoy spending time with you.
Pardon? No, I would never be so passive aggressive. That status update had nothing to do with you.
Gee, I’m a Creative Writer!
‘Hello I’m Bean!’
I disagree with your thoughts. When I see you, I’m going to park my car in the space you wanted.
No! Never out of malice. Simply because I’m Bean.
‪The delusion that you truly believe I can be turned down, off, MUTE.‬
‪That my voice won’t visit your moments of quiet tracing your steps back to my den.‬
‪Oh! How awful do my lips look?‬
‪You distort the red.‬
‪I’m burrowed deeply into you. ‬
‪The delusion that you feel I can be placed on a bed of ice. Hoping that you’ll feel me FADE. Frozen in August 2019 where you left us.
My red lips, blue with the frost setting in. Your mind showing my absence.
Only, you hear my whispers.
‘Trust our universe’
‘You are amazing’
‘I believe in you.’
Yes, you heard that didn’t you!
Oh! How delusional that you felt for a moment in time that I was never Unique. I healed you…
You dismissed my powers when you felt the warmth of being cured.
At night you lay awake, wondering if you got things right? Hearing my sweet whispers and hoping (religiously) you’ll hear my voice once again.
Only I don’t exist.
I received a silent text message thanking me for my contribution.
It never beeped, but I bleeped!
Fuck you! Obscenities monitored and wiped out.
Gee, declarations were live – attributing delusion to the success.
I received a silent text message, it read:
.
I found something.
It died.
I lost something.
I cried.
I heard something.
It shook me.
I cried.
It died once more.
Crow swooped in and sat on my right shoulder.
I ignored something.
It cried.
I burnt something.
It really died.
Oh! The Profanity.
‘What the fuck is this?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Why won’t you, fucking answer?’
Amid the midst of it all, I really want to relax and indulge in the warmth of plant-based kisses. Maybe, near a bed of pink roses and ‘Fuck off!’
‘No, you fuck off.’
‘Don’t talk to me, bitch.’
‘Your mom.’
When we paint pictures, they expect them to be pretty. I simply do not give a flying fuck, crawling fuck or a fuck that swims beneath you and bites your leg off.
‘Go fuck yourself!’
I only want to paint the darkness that bleeds out from your lips. What did you say again? Speak up, speak louder! I want your words to drown out the prettiness. Could you slow down and listen to the brush as I paint over your profundities of deplorable actions.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
The sound of your voice is drowned out by the coolness of the water, and the darkness of blood. Squeak no more, squeak no less, rats aren’t the best at swimming.
‘You mother-fucking son of a bitch!’
No worries, we’ve got this. You’re being recorded by many – one hash-tagged your swimsuit as looking cheap and tiresome. But go you.
I want to paint your lips red and then press my lips onto yours, rub my lips into your and blow red kisses. The flow down to the bed of the ocean, where the remains of words past are sprinkled with treasures.
Shells of life once inhabited before – Shells of a soul that once wondered the sands above.
‘Fuck you, fuck your soul, fuck your bones and fuck your words. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I once painted a pretty picture, it had bunnies hopping, birds singing, puppies playing and sweeties raining. Oh! How delightful it is, it was. I poured petrol all over it and set it alight. A lie, your lies, up in flames.
Under the glow of the full moon, we see the scope. You’re viral and vermin. The rats welcome you back in glory.
Praise be.
Praise be.
Fuck me! You’ve created a masterpiece.
A fucking magnificent piece of shit!
I’m trying to build my confidence in reading aloud. 😅 this is so scary! But I’m doing it! *Ps my mic isn’t great…
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