Tag: writingcommunity

September 25, 2025 (4)

‘I’ll miss you now, but you’ll miss me the rest of your life.’ – Rosie

Today, she gave herself permission to let go. 

Though she felt completely dead inside, she knew that her weakness was the source of all her pain.

Today, she allowed her heart to open up and become the target. Her mind regurgitated memories of the lies he sang to her in the form of a unique connection and emotional bond.

Today, she created an opportunity for him to reassure her mind. Instead, he doubled down on his deceitful behaviour, and she sensed a hint of pleasure in his goodbye. It was akin to being bitten by a venomous snake and having the power to cure the heart. Choosing to smile in the face of someone who unequivocally valued you, prioritised you, and though you promised you’ll never hurt her. 

Your smile beams, glancing at the antidote and her life fading in…three, two, one.

Climate Change

Laying in state for far too long. I’ve had my eyes closed and my lips sealed with tincture.
My voice.

For a long time, the temperature rose and fell too quickly, too violently. I discovered the blueprint post-destruction. Though, I admit I had seen glimmers of this a while ago and ignored it.

Graduation was a spiteful entry. Absorption.
I became dehydrated and baked under the glaze of envy.

Fireworks ripped the restraints and broke up the mental chains of dystopia. For the first time in the history of our timeline, I chose myself.

Today, at this very moment, I sway my hands through clear blue water. I’m comforted by the sun.

My voice is heard, and honey truly heals.

To my cheese, my spicy cheese, thank you, forever and ever! I would never have woken up had you not found me.

An accurate flow, if ever I encountered one.

Liar – 20.09.2024

The way your lips move when you speak has always fascinated me.

Let’s be real; no one is interested in you.

The way your fingers twitch when you tweet, and your voice wails out.

Let’s be real; no one cares about you.

The way you lie and you lie, and you gaslight and lie and reverse over a swan you ran over earlier. Then you fall asleep. Wake up and swear to your God that you’re innocent, and you hate how witnesses are reporting your crimes. 

You cry out like a bitch to the feds about how your traits are on the line here, and you don’t think it’s fair that the news is printing eyewitness testimony.

After all, you know you’re innocent, right?

Let’s be accurate; you think what you think, and even the truth has no space in your life. So your head has you spinning, allegedly.

You make up shit and assume that the editor is spending time pouring gold on. She knows nothing about you, to write about you. However, past and present witnesses have the mic and the timeline of deceit, and most importantly, they can attest under oath that you regularly attack swans.

Crow chants out at 1800; your body bears witness to all your violent crimes. 

Your lips move and echo your lies, with tears and pain on the hour. You snarl and snigger at your brilliant ways of manipulation. You play victim so well, yet you hold the knife perfectly, not even bothered about cross-contamination; you raise, and you stab. You stab, and you twist. You twist and assign blame, stating, ‘Your response made me do this.’ 

Then you hide your weapons, you cry wolf and explain to the authorities that you were attacked! Your character was defamed, and your traits were contaminated.

Crow now perches on my left shoulder, and he plucks a prawn from my portion of King Prawn egg fried rice with the soya-ginger sauce in a small dipping bowl. 

We are silent in this space.

One of the surviving swans makes a statement that coincides with witness testimony.

You scream out, ‘I’m innocent’, as the detective finds evidence to prove you’re a liar. 

Liar.

Pockets – 19.09.2024

Every time you have the time and space to improve, you do nothing.

I hint as I speak, I highlight with red rings of fire. Yet you sit back and act like a bitch. 

Stomp your feet and throw yourself onto a bed of floral, fresh memory foam, and you peek before your soft landing.

You pluck out yet another appeasement and sprinkle it around me, hoping it remains as effective as the last dose.

You forget that all things have an expiry date, even plastic degrades, eventually.

I could draw a map daily, provide a flashlight and, of course, sustenance, and guide you myself, but you’d get lost again. I’d forever state how lucky you were to end up exactly where you started.

It’s a miracle.

Bless my soul for believing in you. 

These days, I don’t even get my hiking boots on. I sit in a cosy chair, sip hot chocolate and catch up with EastEnders. There simply isn’t time to volunteer anymore.

Crybaby – 07.09.2024

‘That’s not fair!’

‘What about life, is?’

You are there as a suppressant. I listen, I ingest, I digest.

My limbs aren’t getting me out of bed.

My eyes keep filling with tears and releasing streams down my face. My lips part, but my vocal cords are stiff.

My brain is screaming at me. Trapped beneath layers of your lies. Your deceit is fueled by my decline, nourished by my fear of growth. Yet you foolishly compare ‘accomplishments’ to credits you will never earn.

Crow shall not hide away.

Crow will not seal his beak.

Crow will never stand down.

Crow is forever.

Unique will not bend and serve.

Unique shall paint with every hue of blue.

Unique will speak through twisted coherence, and those who disobey will lose inexplicably.

Yes, I will console and consider. However, Crow will fly, and my voice will blend into everything.

There’s no escape.

Cry, cry, baby.

Today – 17.08.2024

He saw I was down, injured by shards of misinterpretation. No! Misrepresentation! The information was ambiguous and clearly indicated a meeting.

I bled out, and he asked, ‘What are you up to?’ 

Then left me there for 24hrs.

Thankfully, I managed to get help. Miraculously, I survived the night. Regrettably, I sent a text. Notably, it went unanswered. Lazily, one word was sent in response. Secretly, I pondered over my next move.

I’m awake now. I reckon I’ll be okay. My new scars cover old scars, hiding my love for the unknown and perhaps the inconsiderate. 

Tears are there, and a great escape is pending, but I push back. Well, step back. This is too much. 

Now he’s gone. 

Out of Office: 23.03.2024

No unwanted conversations or snakes burning their eyes out to forget how amazing I am.

The haters never congratulate; the fraudsters mingle and disassociate.

The pig oinks and climaxes over a bucket of fried chicken.

The haters whisper, trying to peddle a false narrative of success.

I remain silent.

No nasal intrusions; investigating lunch. Gone for a moment are the moments of the boring asking the same question, ‘But what next?’ Inside my mind, I hear laughter – my big brown eyes ask silently, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ I smile.

I remain silent.

Softball – 22.11.2023

Crow kicked the ball; it rolled and rolled.

Crow kicked the ball, and it rolled.

The meat inside had lied. He lied!

Crow kicked the ball, and it rolled.

The softball lied.

Gas was lit beneath, and Crow danced and danced.

Strike the match and dance some more.

Crow kicked the ball, and IT cried.

Crow kicked the ball, and it screamed.

Crow kicked the ball, and it died.

Out of Office: 28.01.2023

I arrived late on Wednesday and was upset.

I walked into an unoccupied room and let the tears flow to a man I don’t have much respect for – a man who has treated me like shit and stepped out of his role into a cloud of ignorance.

I was crying due to a range of emotions festering in my mind. After all, who wants to listen to the negative aspects of your life? Like, I am going through a lot right now, and my head was about to explode. Surprisingly, it helped. Thank you.

Then followed the slurry of colleagues asking more than once, ‘are you okay?’

I had not slept in over 24 hours, and my body felt like shutting down. My eyes flickered shut on the cusp of five-minute intervals, and I struggled to complete my shift. I understand some people have good intentions; however, after I have answered you twice! Why would you ask another three times?

Sometimes, you should read the space and mind your business.

Regards,

Unique

Until June 2022

Wow! What a year it has been, the good, the bad, the dangerous? Cast aside to my think bin.

I set a few goals, a bit of this, and some of that; nothing has made me happier than writing. Though, after another 12 months of trying to play catch-up and not having the time to complete all I know I can. After 12 months of consideration, I have decided to take a break from blogging – it won’t be forever, just until June 2022.

I want to thank every one of you for supporting and inspiring my life. 2021 has been quite the challenge, and I officially recognise, I need to take a step back from this and focus intensely on my main goal. Of course, I will continue to read other blogs and show my love and support for my fellow Creative Writers – But for now, Crow and I shall fly through the skies in the hopes to return to you in two thousand and twenty-two.

With love,

Dame Unique

Suffering – 18.12.2021

I am lying in bed, allowing my thoughts to fuel my anxiety.

I’m feeling a great deal of stress today, so forgive my absence. I think my phone will be turned off most of the time.

No one understands the pressure and expectations. No one appreciates that I’m one woman – I need a hug, not a demand.

The majority of my time is spent doing things for others. Many vultures circle my life, waiting to pick at my essence when I’m not 100%

E.g. I volunteer between work/research – I wasn’t available yesterday, as I was working. The organiser sent a rude email about ‘why?’ I replied articulately, and she apologised. **Why is there a sense of entitlement around the gifts I bring to those around my circles

Sometimes I need space from everyone.

Sometimes I need a break from my thoughts.

Sometimes I need a Tuesday to be alone.

📵

❤️

I love you all. I need some time…