unlike a Patsy in the woods

Every door closes on him.

Preying on vulnerable open wounds -healing will never begin.

Investigate those eyes before committing to a reprise.

Listening to melodies – Sirens come with mixed genitalia -long hair is but one disguise.

take a ruler to the heart – measure the worth of sufferance again.

Sever the connection – scatter archaic ashes in rivers – imposing artificial zen.

Follow your path. Look at how far you have climbed.

Never forget the struggle of clinging onto that mountain – raging, over-imbibed.

How many tears must you swallow before realizing he only wants you to taste his edifice?

He will spin webs of verse -words veiled in lust just to share his murderous impotent vice.

Remember the reality – the aftershock of his insults.

Remember the silence- the disrespect – the calculated spasmodic my mind has no google map  whereabouts

This is a wake-up call – a reminder – It is not just you- he has chosen in an attempt to toast with a contrived roast.

He suffers from genuflecting self-esteem issues that cause the desertion of Hells own residential ghosts.

You and he are not alike.

You and he are not alike.

You and he are not alike.

You have a mind that looks for the good- seeks to find friendship without shame.

He has a mind that will convince you are ruined to think two genders can reasonably rhyme or mime  without the bane of another unfulfilled echo of  ‘I just came’

Take this negative,

filter out all color from this overspeeding thought.

Look at the skeletons – black and white – bones tell the history of those who he tried to thwart.

He’s alone for reasons he alone can only answer for.

Keep hold of your bright light for those who offer you a light when they sense a dull veil surround your core.

Gentle men and women don’t give ultimatums laced with sexual innuendos.

Sing this kumbaya to those ready for climatic conscription conditioning,

volumize the colony of desperados.

*dedicated to all the toxic pricks I’ve ever met. You taught me how to recognize your kind well.   Namaste*

 

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 2017-01-21, in EXPERIMENTAL WRITING and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 12 Comments.

  1. Yes, we should listen to the alarm bells going of inside of us, when we cross pricks like those you described.
    Well done Daisy!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This was great. I particularly liked the dedication!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. the creep
    it did seep
    the genes
    told the story
    behave
    and not be a total slave!

    Liked by 3 people

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