the transformation of Forlorn

Hash slinger – dilutes 365 days worth of grapes fermenting in a  cave filled with stolen hearts.

Instigator- in need of ingredients  – list ready not fully prepped but all great recipes need parts.

Dark ale, vodka trail – ‘buy get one free’ cocktails.

E- colorants – fry the mind -a far cry from fresh mint and soul mates kiss.

New beginnings left in a brawl of broken communication,

walking all uphill – alone.

Moving target – pray for the deceased – we may miss.

cuckoo birds sling out freestyle, rap, battle war cries,  on a council estate –   beaks pointed and drawn.

Prepared to engage in battle. A  girl walks by she goes by the name forlorn.

Forlorn found her way back home, in the arms of her significant other.

Her mind and heart she gave away freely to another.

Too many grains of sand lost to shell-shock beach.

Too many thoughts and emotions she stewed over.

One potato – made her believe she was smashed enough and that it was her lucky clover.

Magic happens in all forms of manners.

Butterfly wings eats at the table, always gets a slap to the head from  Peppered head chef.

Escapism signs – she drove her mind around the same block clocking  355 days worth of miles. She surpassed the speed of light.

Infinitum.

 There is a harsh ignorance in being deaf.

Cleft palate.

Third world faggot.

Take offense to the fact the one can be cured by a doctor at liberty, the other could be the one who does the operation.

Connections made in hazy chatrooms- friends first?  denied.

 She let her guard go below waist level.

Summer, trees, fresh breeze- no red wine- only a heart jolted into shame and alienation.

Walking into her shift at ‘club unresolved‘, the room filled with patronly feelings.

Ignored, lonely spell caught up with her when she was having her smoke break.

She drew up a new sheet – the rules of this melody could go whichever way they choose.  One little minor grew into a major.

Tchaikovsky in need for  Concerta of this scale.

Lonely spell  – left without decorating the cake.

Allies can be few and far between-    Forlorn can’t take lonely spell with her into every one of her dreams.

Sweet relief falls like crumbs to hungry birds, not enough to satiate every lost soul.

At least Jesus had his merry sunbeams.

One year of Forlorn clenched fists, post sticky notes reminding her to breathe.

Begging for mercy.

Forlorn only wanted Lonely Spell to let her be another  Venusian friend – not some spicy flavored condiment that would only end up in regretful screams.

‘The Let go’   should bring comfort to sweet forlorn.

Weightless -gravity took hold her.

Luckily  Soul mate was quick enough to tie a string around her emaciated form.

His spirit grabbed hold of her – even when bone turned to dust,

disappearing,

 falling apart at the seams.

Forlorn, not for thinking she had lost a missing ingredient.

Forlorn because she never needed a magic ingredient to make her whole- she blinded her own eyes with a blow torch.

Moment of Epiphany.

A Stray Cat only gets to sleep in a babes cradle,

 if a mother forgets to secure the front door behind her- facing  Fallible street -Eastside of the mansion porch.

 

 

 

About Daisy Willows

'Words are my everything' - Jon Wayne . A writer of poetry, stories, stage scripts, fiction, border line poetry & freestyle works, Music reviews, Guest Features/interview & shout outs. She is also passionate about raising anti-stigma & awareness for Mental Health. A trained co-facilitator in Wellness Recovery Action plan by Mary Ellen Copeland Natasha goes by many moniker names-Daisy Willows, bahtuhkid, GOAT2Bdazee. She has had a colourful life. Travelled. Natasha co-owns a second-hand clothing & accessories business -La Bella Bijoux Ltd Natasha was born in South Africa & is a French national. She currently resides in the UK Natasha Bodley holds a postgraduate in the Humanities. A BA in Myth in the Greek and Roman worlds & Advanced creative writing. She also holds a Foundation degree in Acting performance. She is currently working on her first novel (semi-autobiographical creative non-fiction). She has published one short story on Amazon called 'Number one' Connect with Natasha Collaborate with Natasha & feel free to Communicate her too. Light, Peace & Love!

Posted on 2016-12-23, in INSPIRED BY MY MUSE, Write to create and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 19 Comments.

  1. “At least Jesus had his merry sunbeams.” Love it.

    Like

  2. Brilliant work 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love the “otherworldliness” of this. Great post, Daisy. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Brilliancy in action!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. faggots mean sticks
    below your waste
    where we want to taste
    shake the dust
    snow coming
    thanks given
    yule do tasher!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Absolute genius

    Like

Feel free to connect or add your words & thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: