Tell me
Infants are at fault for
Their crying, their desires
To stay alive,
Because they know nothing
Not even to breathe,
Or shiver
Yet they don’t realise
How tiny
Their world is

Tell me
This sickness
Makes me no more
Than a baby,
Crying with no reason,
Tell me
I am selfish
For not indulging others
By faking a smile
Even though
I’ve been doing that
For years.
Tell me
I am nothing
Tell me
This world doesn’t care
About anything other
Than acting
Tell me,
Tell me,
Tell me...

So tell me,
If I didn’t show up tomorrow,
Would you keep telling them the same?

So, you ask,
How would I explain it?
Well certainly, as something
Not fun.
It's like...
It's like carrying a leach around with you.
When I walk, I can feel it,
It is a dead weight on my chest,
******* the life from my arms,
Making my hands and face slender,
What should be full and strong
It's like...
It's like when you're sick to your stomach.
That feeling of tar in your gut,
But instead of being isolated, it's everywhere
Throughout your body,
It makes you feel sick everywhere.

This is how I explain dysphoria:
Have you ever looked in the mirror,
And wanted to just rip all your hair out?
When a bad hair day gets out of hand,
Have you ever felt the need to just start over?
Even when you tear out a clump of hair
And your scalp looks raw and a little ******,
But you keep going anyway,
Just to get rid of that stupid haircut?
...no?
Alright, how about,
When you're watching the outtakes of a 3-D animated movie,
the scenes that have "gone wrong",
When the girl's eyes are far too big and pop out of her face,
Her arms are disconnected from her chest,
Her head moves but her teeth do not,
And you just want to scream "DELETE IT!"
Because it's obvious that someone has ******* up here,
And this nightmare, this fever dream
Is not what they intended their creation to look like.

Alright, well have you ever
Done a pencil drawing?
And you've put a lot of time and effort into it,
You're so proud,
This is one of your best works,
But something about it is just off?
You might not be able to tell what it is,
This will bother you for a long time,
You will spend hours on end thinking
About what exactly separates this piece of art from everything else,
What it is that keeps it from perfection...
Until suddenly one day, you realise,
You notice exactly what's wrong,
You grab an eraser to fix your mistake
But then, oh no
Your eraser was *****,
And when you tried to rub out that single wonky line,
You leave a huge black smudge across your paper
And now there's no way to get rid of it
All your work on this piece, ruined,
And you're really upset,
You were so proud of this drawing,
It was so close to being perfect,
It could have been so beautiful,
It was almost perfect, but now...

But now, it's wrong.
It just looks wrong
It just IS wrong,
It wasn't meant to look like this
I am trying to explain as simply as I can
That this body is wrong,
That it wasn't meant to look like this,
That it wasn't meant to BE like this!
Don't you understand?
This is how I explain dysphoria:
Have you ever looked in the mirror
And wanted to just rip your chest out?
Do you ever see your body, your parts seeming broken,
Your chest, legs, hear the sound of your voice
And just scream "DELETE IT!"
Because it's obvious that someone
Has ******* up
Someone was using a ***** eraser
When they created me, erased me,
And they've left smudges, mistakes, that I
Cannot get rid of,
And however hard I try to pretend
That I don't care,
I do,
And I still feel the need to erase them.
These leaches that I carry around,
They drain me,
And I was so proud of myself
I,
This body...

It could have been so beautiful

Climb this mountain,
Don't tell her what her voice is

Climbing, I don't say,
When she calls out, she's joking,
She's not talking to me,
But if I imagine she is,
Watch me sprint up.

This euphoria,
I've only felt it once before,
When I was called little brother,
And these two words embraced me
So small, yet holding so much,
She might have been joking,
But what I heard was
I hear you,
And I almost cried

Now, climbing,
I don't say
I don't tell her what her voice means
I doubt she remembers
What I whispered in urgent tones that day
Because I know she isn't talking to me,
When she calls to the boy,
I know she's talking to
the real boy,
But when I heard her,
I soared up the cliff,
Exhaustion from the hours before
Suddenly gone
And I could run, like
Any boy could have,
Now I find myself dreaming
That she might mean it one day,
I find myself dreaming
That the boy she was talking to,
Really talking to,
Might mean it one day...

Remember walking through an unfamiliar town,
Knowing there is something on the other side,
But finding it harder to care...
Do you remember
Walking through that street,
With dry throat and fast breath,
With shivering hands,
And eyes that betray,
The past 2 hours are still fresh in the mind,
Cracked voices,
Lying to ourselves when we say
”it’s all going to be okay”
How strange, on a day so cloudy,
In the sky of this world,
And in the ocean of our minds,
Fog rising over the water and we can’t see beauty anymore...

How strange, to walk by a park and see
Children,
Playing their games without a care in the world.
How strange, to see
Passers-by look at the ambulance,
And laugh, probably wondering
What’s happened, will it be on the news?
Red hair and red face,
When we take seats on the empty train,
We sit in silence,
And I can’t help but wonder,
How could anyone find happiness here?

We live in our own world,
How strange,
Being in such a dark place,
Watching others dancing in the light,
They don’t even know your struggles
And how could they?
It seems so impossible to think
That no-one else knows
This is not a happy day.

Rainbows swirl around, a fever dream
Painted, polished on ceramic stone,
The shaking slows,
and I remember her,
Convulsing on the rocks,
Heart drops when we say "breathe!"
Wish no response -
2 minutes ago, a man asked,
We said she was fine
Now, we scream for help,
And he's the only face we see,
Running back up the mountain now,
she still won't breathe
And neither will I,
Until she gasps again
But still won't open her eyes.
For an hour or more we stay
By her side,
when she stops moving
The pitch creeps back into my voice,
Please-
Please just keep breathing -

The paramedics finally come,
Marching down the track,
And I find it hard to leave her.
We sit on the rocks, out of the way,
Until a man in blue leads the way up the mountain.
We sit at the top, I'm still numb
Another hour passes of silent panic,
And then here they finally come...

We walk to the station in silence,
We're all thinking of someone to blame
As I walk, I keep remembering-
How we're all saying we're fine,
But we echo her words from before.
How I shouldn't have let her drink that,
How she was fine until they told us to
     Hurry UP!

On the train, it feels quiet,
I have nothing to say.
At last, a phonecall -
she's going to be fine
And it's then that I remember,
How the last thing I heard her say was
        "Sorry"
And I could only whisper,
"It's not your fault"
And then we're all fine,
We're all happy - no.
I don't say anything,
I still can't think clearly,
It's a blur,
Just pictures now -
Her body on the rocks,
A voice, a scream for help,
A bearded, kind face,
Another girl in tears,
Hurried faces running away, away,
Always leaving,
There was no-one when she dropped,
And what if no-one had
Waited for her, for us,
Would she have died there?
Sounds, a heart dropping
Every minute, I'm stuck there,
On the "What if -",
Because everyone tells me
That it's fine now,
She's fine now, well
What if everything hadn't been okay?

Canvas bag, swinging
As we walk,
The thousand voices
Singing together, screaming
But never loud enough
Never loud enough to stay above water
On our own here
It’s an ocean we used to play in,
Don’t assume I was always a strong swimmer
I never learned to slow down,
Now I’ve stopped moving and can’t
Seem to start again
Keep up, keep up,
Can I really separate myself from the moment
When everyone ran ahead,
And someone collapsed, unbreathing
Can you imagine what would have happened
If no-one had waited for us,
Would we still be in that forest,
Screaming for help
While she was unable to even
Open her eyes,
Everyone tells me I can forget,
But how can I,
When I haven’t even seen her face since that day?
Still, I sit here in silence,
I’ll tell her story another day,
But for now,
The ocean’s feeling a little lonely,
And someone said that others had been here before
Didn’t he say that the ocean was full?
I wonder if I’ll ever meet my fellow dying.

With the songs stuck in your head,
Darling, the clock ticks down to midnight
Now, birthday boy,
Day’s over and we’re still here,
Still typing, tapping away
Like we’re running out of time
Lady, get that song out of your head-
Song out of my head-
Song out of our head
Let’s reach a compromise here
You’re not alone and never were
I don’t know how I let you think that
See, some people, they see this
As an invasion of the mind
Remember the story you told yourself,
As we finally fell asleep…
The story of the lies we kept together
Long after you were dead,
But not really dead? I don’t know, I never could tell
The crowds, the man dressed in a smirk,
Saying oh, what a shame,
to lose your sister like that
And for her tiny voice to answer,
that’s not the way I see it

Remember the defence in her throat,
The anger she gave out
To he who threatened you, and for what?
Arguing his case of a friend long dead,
That’s not how it happened,
But she’s never coming back, she doesn’t even want to
Trust us, she’d prefer it be me
Standing in her place here,
As if it ever mattered who she’d be…
But you see, the story you tell
Is a hundred years old or more,
They’d never perceive you as human again,
For all you know, still don’t.

So you sit here today,
Scared to let anyone know,
Dreaming of a time where we don’t have to be.

As I sit, slouched over,
Lady in the black dress tells me,
Sit up
Breathe in slow, now
Into the cup full of water,
The fog in plastic
Like the fog in my head,
Remember what they keep saying,
Someone thinks they're hated
And you don't have the words to correct them
So let that poor boy
Walk away, rejection
Like poison in his heart
Remember my nickname was "poison"
Left arm is limp and dead,
It hurts to pick up anything
Rise and lean on the table,
No,
Don't touch anything
Leeches on your chest,
And everyone keeps noticing,
"My girl"
And the words echo in
A hollow plastic mind
Filled with fog as the water is drained
Hair pulled back or hanging over the eyes
Well either way will stop your breathing
People keep asking, "are you okay"
And lies are just so easy,
Too easy,
Mumble in as many words,
Fine, it's fine,
Pray to hell they don't tell her
She can't know, can't know
Brings you to tears just
Thinking about forcing as many lies again
I'll look in the mirror but won't say,
I don't say "smudged drawing" or "failed graphics",
I see dead weight,
I beg them,
Don't make me take this off,
Don't force me to look at all,
Please

Bright red badge says "panic"
Pin it to your chest,
A glowing little crest
Of all their comments,
All their lies
Hide beneath a hood,
Convince yourself it looks
More neutral like this
Coz it's too early in the morning
I'm too tired to imitate
A deeper voice

Raise your demi-demi-god into the sky,
Follow him, follow her, follow them

I never realised we belonged
To the inside
Of the other side
Help your friends hide
In the centre.
"Boy", "Girl",
Taunting yourself in the mirror

Raise your demi-demi-god into the sky,
Follow him, follow her, follow them
Keep walking, honey,
You thought we were just
Following blind
We've stumbled into that ditch before
It's a long way down
Well, we're here for good now, right?

Pray to every diety
That stupid story
Won't play out again,
Can't let it play out again
Well at least she'd know, they'd know,
At least they don't take thieves
For showmen

Broken pivot
Endless fidget
Back and forth,
Back and forth
Back and-
Back and-
Back and-
twitch
Slam down
In and out
Purple thread
Through black ribbon
In and out,
Back and forth,
Thread snap
Little knife
To Cut the ties
And into skin,
Back and forth,
Thick blue lines
Hiding behind
Skin barely transparent
Needle goes in,
Out
Press the button
Up,
Down,
Hinges swinging
No control
Concentrate
Skin is fabric,
Black nylon
On peach vellum
In and out
As string appears
In dotted lines
Pinch to keep together
openings,
Eyes, lips, ears
A wound in a dress
Keep it together
A hole in the flesh,
Into a scar with time
The aches of a button-up
Dotted scarf
Black ribbon
Stitched together
Around the wrist

Violence plays over the headset
Disguised as love
Keep your head ******* on
Looking down from above
And I'll wait for the lines
To shrink, with my anxiety
Keeping my eyes from the map
I'll look up and I'll sigh
Always a better
Singer than writer,
No dancer, you're a fighter
Scribbled messages written in a language
You might as well have made up
Red pen, endless ciphers
Scratched on loose leaves
Black triangle, purple stripes
So eager to please
We're leaving in an hour
Someone coughs, they can't breathe
Just run through the play in your head
About the different families all needing to grieve
Just remember your lines
Just remember all the scenes
Just hope her leg gets better
So you won't be forced to leave

Deep breath,
Set your face to stone
Are you ready?
(Are you ready yet?)
Honestly, no.
But it's time to go back,
To where we all wear white
Where the uniform stand
Desperately trying not to fight

Remember grey cards
Get you where you need to be
Loose coloured paper sheets
To help keep you on your feet
Keep your resistance to the cold
Make some resistance to the heat
This lecture's getting old
You must remember when to eat

Tomorrow, wake at dawn
There's no excuses, starting now
Remember all the things you need
Make sure the music's not too loud
Take a deep breath
And set your face to stone
Yeah, no-one's really ready
But you still aren't staying home.

Such quiet,
Soft voices
With such power in their words
That I cannot find my own
Yet when they finish,
A cute smile
And whispered thanks
While I just colour in
Unable to stay
Between the lines
In this dark watercolour
In purples and blues
And bruises and scars
Stand outside
With wooden flowers
With rotten apples
Swinging heavy from the tree
A blue coat
And a world you made up
Out of someone else's fantasy

Paint stains the clean
Brown black-tipped rosettes
An array of brushes
In all different sizes
In all different shapes
Choose the smallest
To only outline the clouds
The swirling patterns on your page
Four clicks of a lighter
Before a blue flame erupts
The panicked breaths
Forced to slow
When others are home
Because your problems are your own
Yellow and grey cards
Will take you back to hell come morning
A pink coat you find yourself wearing despite everything
And black triangles surrounded with grey
As you question what brought you here,
What made the freezing morning
Finally slip by

I wear a jacket that looks like patchwork
I dress in a shirt that's far too tight
Because it makes me feel different
Because if I wear this then
It's like I'm hiding my skin
It's like I can get lost in
This long pointy hood
These orange and purple patches
I'm not wearing my confidence today
Can't you tell?
Yeah I know, I've been told
Confidence is a good look for me,
but
I'm not wearing confidence.
I'm not wearing the salt
Or the pride
No
I left that in my other jacket pocket
And I'm shaking too much to get it out now

I'm here
In a black shirt I said I'd never wear
I'm here
In a hoodie that still smells like dust
Because I guess it's better
Than any coat that stinks of lies
And I can turn on my screen
And listen to bitter truths in
Gorgeous symphonic language
And I can paint
These tiny colourful stripes
Onto bottlecaps
Looking away
Because it's too real
Please, this is the only reality
I need to be a part of,
Let me read my soul
If I can't find the way to draw it
Let me turn it into a song
Turn it into something
Worth listening to
Because hell knows I've had it
With yelling at a people
Who still just turn a deaf ear,
A blind eye
And now I'm at the point
Where I'm hiding in a patchwork jacket
I'm hiding in this long pointy hood
My skin behind a shirt too tight
Because there's no use arguing my case
When it's already been decided who's right.

I don't remember being 3 years old
But I do know what he was like -
A puppy, bouncing around,
A prince in his very own castle.

I vaguly remember being 6 years old
I know what he was like -
They said he was getting old for a dog
He was always grumpy, but at least he
Remembered who I was when I came,
The old king of his castle.

I remember being 12 years old
Visiting again, that Jackie
"He's an old man now", they said
He was tired sometimes
Yet he still acted like royalty in his house

I remember being 15 years old
We were on holiday together,
His owners and my family
He slept often, and was bitter in his years
And I told them,
"You know Jackie's as old as me?"
I calculated that in dog years,
He was about a hundred and five

I am 16 years old, approaching 17.
And Jackie's still here.
He's tired and he doesn't really move much from his seat.
But this is still his house as much as anyone else's.
He'd be 112 to 119.
He doesn't argue when I go to pat him now
He's calm,
Like he's got no fight left in him.
And it's funny,
I can't help but feel he might outlive me
I know he hasn't been this welcoming since we were both three.

If I was looking for beauty
I wouldn't look in the mirror.
If I wanted to see a pretty perfect face
I'd look at some cousin's old dolls.

If I was looking for perfection,
A face unspoiled and clean
There would be a thousand places I could look
But I will never look at myself

If I'm looking in the mirror,
I'm looking at an injury
Or a stain,
Or a wound
I never see anything remotely beautiful in the mirror
Not unless someone's standing next to me
And it's funny,
People have called me beautiful before
Only for me to snort so loudly
For me to laugh in genuine confusion
And sarcastically agree.
I don't call myself modest
I'm simply asking for honesty
I've never cared about
What my face looks like
How ugly I am
or how pretty I'm not
Surely, there's something more important
To compliment someone with
All a face is
Is a way to recognise a friend
All a body is
Is how to describe the guests to expect

The only disadvantage to not caring
Is that I doubt I'd care
If something were truly wrong.

It's weird, the way I rhyme,
I'm out of time
It's like a child,
The way my lines
Never end up the same size
It always ends up a surprise,
The way I rhyme
Made up on the spot,
I never bother cleaning up
If all my lines were the same length,
I'd feel my poems go corrupt
Yet even though
some lines are fast and others slow
I always go
To the ticking of a clock
I'm
Sticking to this loop
Coz it never feels right
Waiting for an age
For a light
To appear above my head,
Coz I can never think of one in time
I teach myself to improvise
With all my lines,
With all my rhymes,
Coz it's weird,
The way I rhyme.

Sitting for hours, now we sit once again
We're waiting for guests
When only hours before, we slept in tents
Now it's the clock showing the time
And not stars
Now we eat at a table,
Now the heat's all around us
Now we throw silk cloths
Where before we had rocks
And I wonder how this is meant for beginners
As an expert finding this harder

Ah, there's the ticking sound
I haven't heard in years
Here's the subtle chill
That lets me find comfort in nothing but a t-shirt
This room with a view,
When was the last time I slept here?
I've only had one good night's sleep
How quickly will I adjust to the heat?
Wait for family to arrive
Heavier and hurting are my eyes
Now when was the last time
I called this place
"Home"?

Put some smoke in that painting
What was the pattern on her shirt?
He had a blue coffee cup,
The mother wore a red overcoat

Look at this tapestry, admire its detail
You might even hear
The children playing in the background
If you focus,
Can you smell the snowgums,
The wood slowly burning?
Details, a red torch, a blue pen,
The cars driving in, out, in, out
The annoyed father grumbling,
make up your mind!
A purple jacket,
A whistling duck flying away
Look at the colour of the sky,
The pink horizon fading into blue, into black
The trees stretching, giant dandelion silhouettes
Look at this picture, admire its detail

Add some more smoke to that campfire
Perfect the pattern on her shirt
Colour the coffee cup blue,
The mother wore a red overcoat