The Rage

Rage incensed unfurled by the scent of the Unsaged.

The Wisest fool, I know.

Marked with your own hands

let your vapid swimming champion attempt to have a  go

Let you paw my naked flesh

blue rinse.

Touch me up and make me think I wanted you for sex.

I don’t give a fuck!

Get out my of my head, black-mouthed dog.

I got my hands sullen – fresh paint can’t hide your taint revolving around my mind.

I write with these hands because I don’t know what else to do if I sit with my thoughts

what else will I find?

Paranoid thoughts, I was doing just fine.

Soul crooners lull me into an artificial lullaby.

Black soul

desperate to pull the remainder of my smile -on the down line.

Graphic infatuation, little girls grow up. I put my hands in the air.

My new escapism became you

There is no edge about you

indeed your toxicity is your strongest flair.

On the border screaming – furry fury cloaks me.

You took advantage, you sick fucking spatial wasted amoebic basket case.

Slap you,  disgrace you.

Shame you.

You took advantage and to hell with you.

I suffer still because I let you have me.

No regrets?  fuck that – knowing you live is the cord around my neck.

Choke me, pollute the air -in my world. it’s not fair.

No, life ain’t fair.

Break. it. down.

Trace my heart – find a pulse – wearing my heart for all to show -has led to this current plumous demise.

Despise – I’m spitting mad.

You think you got me had?

Leave my mind – cybersex or sext with the one with the most milkshakes accumulating in her breasts.

I back away -Every.Single. Day.

My greatest doubt is you.

My biggest mistake was believing you -believing in you.

I’m bored. I’m tired. I feel like you’ve drawn out the last pint of blood from my veins.

Silence  your kind.

Judge not those who seem a reflection of myself.

Your kind is everything that drags me into the knockers pit – I know about that mine.

I know the rules now.

Not worth it. Wasted.

Not worth recycling.

If I see you again count on a different primitive play out.

You ain’t no clever clogs  – your seduction techniques consist of stirring drunken lust.

You can’t even get your playmate up – he so broke – he to lame to even cough up and say I’m bust

See my belly button?  I ain’t your mommy – there ain’t no umbilical cord,

Snap out of this maced crowdy place.

Am I losing it because of a hillbilly with a familiar face?

Contravene – isophane

Get out of my mind.

Tickets for you – you need to pay hundreds in fines.

Here’s the unpolitical correct version – may your mind be haunted and possessed by the very wrong deeds you have done with your own venomous spew.

I hate you. I hate me. I hate that I let you get to me.

Immigrant? I’d rather be that than insignificant. who are you?

Who are you?

No metamorphosis fly buttering around.

Comparisons to what I have tossed away to one side.

If I end up in a grave with a tag on my toe.

Please, family, don’t own me. Call me Jane doe.

Such is the embarrassment for the one I almost gave up breathing – you so shallow – you so low,

then I realize you want to have that effect – crazy bastard. Your mind ain’t correct.

How can  I erase your dirty fingernails and unwashed face from my skin?

How could I let you touch me – lusted after you?    You dear, are not my sin.

Lost and a wandering always flock to the same ravine.

I’m not gonna drown in here -with you the last thought on  my mind

We all a bit crazy – you crazier than your previous generation of malignant space heads.

Fuck you. Fuck this – potions brewing. I’m on my way to Haiti to instil a dose of voodoo – you hoodoo – foo do – mush brain processed tin canned – factory-made – reset the defaults – you haven’t got a clue.

You think you some Who?

Have I told you lately I have some news for you?

 

 

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 2020-03-20, in EXPERIMENTAL WRITING, POETRY-FREESTYLE/IN YER FACE/EXPERIMENTAL and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 39 Comments.

  1. Excellent… and I see my girl Francesca Woodman… I wouldn’t want to get in the wrong side of you! Who!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. summerSHINES

    Your writing is insanely good 😊😂💜💜💜

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Freaking excellent !!! x

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love this! It’ a great way to tell someone off.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Incredible! Loved it!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Daisy you are a fucking badass. I hope who ever this was about reads it, cause it’s a dick kick to the soul. I hate him and and I don’t know him. This is so in my wheelhouse with some women I have know too. Just awesome seething spite!!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I constantly have to throw them out
    I don’t know where they get their nerve from to invade my space
    Sometimes I will even scream to them
    great piece Daisy
    As always Sheldon

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Damn,

    i
    would
    really
    hate
    to
    be
    on
    your
    bad
    side
    darling!

    Truthfully well written an
    full of emotional thunder…

    hugs & kisses chris

    Like

  9. Fucking goddamn….so fucking visceral. I fucking love it….the pic leaves me speechless as fuck.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Creative image and a unique post.

    Like

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