i have a few rules
you don't need to follow them
i have a few rules
the first one is
make your own rules

I have not forgotten you
I could never forget the ocean
If you are the ocean
I am the skeleton lying on the bottom
I am the lifeless mess
Broken next to a love boat ship wreck
I am drowned and crowned in shame
Buried in the consequence of all of my mistakes
I have not forgotten you
Your ocean voice is clear in my mind
I only have one question
Have you left the corpse of my love behind?

what is it about,
west australian poets?
who hide in journals
where the paper smells,
personal
organic
safe.

what is it about,
women with poor eye sight?
who wear leggings
-instead of-
dresses
who can't help making messes
and sleep until three
because she needs more time to dream

what is about,
women like me?

I tried to wake you up
You wouldn't stir
I thought you were sleeping
You weren't
You were playing dead
Messing with my head
Your sick game of pretend
So in my resentment
I pulled out a gun
I turned you into the real thing

I exist outside of him
A strange concept to process
Eleven years will bind you to a man
Seperation is a storyteller
A strange concept to process
This time apart has told a story
Of a woman reclaiming her sanctuary
I exist outside of him
We are over
Alas!
I am still breathing

he had a hard time
reading the signs
eventually he would come to find
it was easier to lie

I'm glad that I don't have a mental illness
Those people are an incredible drain
A drain on society
A burden to carry
Something to be cruelly thrown away
I'm glad that I don't have a mental illness
I'm glad that I am perfectly sane
I had to watch this depressing man crying on the train
I heard that he went and hung himself
That's the pathetic nature of mental health
I'm glad that isn't me
It will never be
For I am mentally healthy with not a scrap of empathy!

i used to get angry
until realisation hit me
you are stuck in this
you aren't controlling it
suddenly anger became pity

my childhood,
beautifully messy.
living out the nineties
making pre-internet memories

i remember running around
in mismatched clothes
d.i.r.t.y bare feet
no mobile phone
so my eyes were on the sky
my eyes were on the grass, so green
my eyes were looking into yours
not on a vapid screen  

i remember daddy
bringing our first modem home
i entered my first chat room
at nine years old
believe it or not
i remember the chat feed
being considerably clean
the only time it ever would be
in online history

my childhood,
beautifully messy.
i made so many innocent
pre-internet memories

i remember 5 channels on my tv
i was lucky if i got to watch one movie a week
i don't remember feeling that i had less than what i need
i don't remember feeling as though i had to change me

i remember hating bath time
now i can't get myself clean
no matter how many products that i scrub myself with

i remember backyard performances
my sister was director
i could put on any mask i wanted
i was somebody else for just a moment

i remember a girl from high school
inviting me to join Facebook
if i could go back to that day
i would run far away from her

never did i think, it would become what it is
never did i think, i would become an addict

when i entered that chatroom
back in 99'
i wish i had saved those conversations
proof that it was once benign

my childhood,
beautifully messy.
i made so many innocent
pre-internet memories

I lie to myself on a daily basis
It saves me from what I call Truth Psychosis
The brutality of reality
Robs me of my sanity
So I lie to myself to keep me somewhat balanced

Journals stack up around me
Words upon words upon words
Does anybody read the lines that took me a lifetimes to write?
Does anybody feel the emotions that I felt?
When I filled these pages with a thousand words

Journals stack up around me
I keep them in storage box
Will anybody open them when I am no longer alive?
Will anybody realise what it meant for me to write?
Or will these verses simply fade away,
Forgotten?