Tag: words

Clear

From the files of Unique.

Was the mind that chose freedom over mental braces.

Was the woman that ran far away, past the point of knowing.

Was the bee that stopped on the side of a bench, as its wings grew weary.

Was the man that kissed his date nervously by the station entrance.

Was the hand that held the man to attention.

Was the pen that stopped working at the moment a brilliant idea was formulated.

Clear was this page before I began typing.

Obedient

A statement from long ago

Obedient

I told you before, I’ve told you today that the submissive one always has her way.

I’m infrequently reluctant, and I like to snooze.

But my dear sweetie, you’ll always lose.

With other women you choose…

On the floor we roll, up close and out of place.

On the sofa, I bow down to you and drown within your grace.

In your mind, our moments are engrained, forever, you’ll see my face.

Throughout your day you think of us and wonder if what you decided will be true.

At night I keep your heart beating, hard as if it were new.

I can, I will, I have, and I do.

Always have space in my heart to hold you and only you.

Mrs Pepperdew

📸: Pixabay

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!

Oh! The Profanity

📸: Pixabay

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!

Who Do You Love, Are You Sure?

Photo credit: Pixabay

Before

I fell in love with a man that ticked all the boxes.

My list went on forever, about a meter in length, Time New Roman, font size 10.

He lived alone, knew how to drive and earned a decent wage. Our first date was near the beach, and it all began with a wave – Hey Unique.

I had high expectations, which he met and surpassed. He was health-conscious, earth-conscious and his positivity was unmatched.

Did we ever fall in love? No. But I was sure then he was my happily ever after.

After

I fell in love with a man that externally was a catch for all.

My list was crippled by my internal anxiety. I told myself I was never good enough for him.

I made sure I was there.

He drove, cycled, owned his own apartment, cooked, earned a wealthy wage and was polite.

He made me believe I was never good enough, by the silence he often bestowed. He used to pick me up so high, love me and drop me like a bag of plastic tossed into the sea.

As I’m sinking, I see his menacing glare, but before I’m fully submerged, he would pick me up and embrace me. He would hold me so tightly, felt like he would never let go.

My expectations bounced from one end to the other – this man loves me? No. We just fucked like passionate lovers.

Who Do You Love, Are You Sure?

‘Who do you love, are you sure?’ – LL Cool J

We love one another, we sometimes love ourselves.

We’ve loved many others, before and after tales.

Emotions are draining and powerful at the same time, emotions are unpredictable, and even then, they’re all beautiful.

I was sure about before, I was sure about after, now in my future, I look back, and I’m past that.

I loved him then, and there ever after. That was at the time, I knew nothing past that.

Currently

I became friends with a fellow creative, we both adore the art of writing.

Infrequently exploring the universe together, amidst our surrounding circles of blended passion and lightening.

 Our bond is beautiful, and I must tell you so, I know I love this man and I know, he’ll never know.

‘I wish we met years ago!’

I wish the same things too.

Writing these words right now, and I only want to correspond with you. ‘I do.’

I’m as sure as my heart beats, I know my emotion so. I’ll always be here for you and my words you should know.

To build a connection, created from our starlight, our universe is ours, and forever we shall illuminate.

Who do I love? You, my love.

Are you sure? Unconditionally.

Who do I love? Blue, I love blue.

Are you sure? Like the depths of the ocean.

Who do I love? You, I love you.

Are you sure? Yes.

Who Do You Love, Are You sure?

I Know

I know how to count, so I’m counting.

Addition, subtraction no reaction.

 

I know how to read so I’m reading, the messages you don’t send so I’m guessing.

I know how to think so I’m assuming, no contact in forms is just ruining.

 

In comparison to us at the beginning, we’re nothing right now you’re just sinning

Our beginning was flourish with no blots. Now I’m connecting all dots, you’ve just stopped!

 

Ruining connections, you keep stepping, over my thoughts expressing passive aggression.

Online many times just seeking, I see the signs many times I’ve been peeping.

It’s been a while, so you dial because you creeping.

Bitch claims to be stalled, so you call, shit is seeping.

 

I know how to connect, so I’ve disconnected. Those callbacks you speak of keep requesting.

My investment can’t invest, so I’m missing. Staring out my rearview is a blessing.

Like Amy I’m Gone Girl, I’m transparent. Everything on the peripheral is apparent.

I wondered if I’m at fault, I’m impatient. But your actions I speak of, I’m just saying. You could do better, but you’re playing.

Emotional intelligence is a blessing, I know this emotion, I’ve faded.

@Dame_Unique