You’ve done well.
I’m somewhat happy for you. Honest.
The left side of my neck hurts.
You achieved something new to your life. Brilliant.
That’s not my story.
Do not wish the same for my life.
Our universe has chosen. I’m at peace with where I’m going.
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.
No doubt consideration will be taken into account.
Only, when I’m ‘needed.’
I wholeheartedly trust in our universe.
Tell me what’s up?
Tell me what you want from me?
Tell me how happy you are?
Tell me why you smile every day?
Tell me who labelled you amazing?
Tell me if I’m ever wrong?
I love you.
To the moon.
It gifted me a star.
I held the star.
It embedded itself into my soul,
Until the day I left this earth and abandoned your heart for the unknown.
I kissed November and it bore me a star.
I birthed a star and wished upon it.
It cried during the day, as I was blinded by the sun.
I kissed you through November and won!
For treating me like an over chewed piece of gum that’s lost all flavour and purpose.
For faking a friendship.
For walking away.
I stayed right here.
I wrapped myself up.
I healed my self.
I flew by your space one morning.
The early glow from our sun, kissed my wings as I fluttered into greatness.
I hear everything and nothing.
Breathing too loudly.
Fearing what’s behind closed doors.
Longing for your hugs.
I miss you.
Once last night.
You failed to answer.
I deleted your number.
You called a few months later…in need of my power.
I sent a potato emoji and told you I love eating chips.
My mind is awesome for the same reasons it’s not.
Memory x Detail x Accuracy
Pain upsets me.
Are my thoughts distorted?
Is this the start of my downfall?
Am I operating on notion?
Pain opens me up, I convulse and I transmit. What/who/when did this pain commit?
Times I’m distraught are the times my rage is caged. It’s all in my head and I hate to say this, but I’ve come close to…
The bright hue of Scarlett.
The warm scent of new.
The heavyweight of sorrow.
The belief of love renewed.
The reality of intention and deception.
The thoughts so dark and grey.
The scope of fame and fortune, with clickbait, added each day.
The whores attitude of your attitude towards my existence.
The ego you blow up and in my space, the knife stabbed through to mitigate it.
The blue blocks of builds hiding the levels of coerced promotions.
The white lines of the show you glamorise as actualisation.
The whisky you take straight on a Tuesday afternoon.
The roar from my heart at the sign of a new moon.
The rust from your mindset as it’s set in its ways.
Love me, love me not I don’t care anymore, anyway.
In bed (unwell) contemplating my future:
- Updating my x3 diaries.
- Mapping out the next 3 months.
- Selecting my reads for the month.
- Book shopping online.
- Planning a study on titles – or rather a creative piece.
Tired of people calling to moan about the negatives in life. I’m not interested. I just want to rest.