Overly emotional
strangely proportional
partly suboptimal
highly improbable

Easily
devided
by truth and anger
and all that subsided

I'm trying
I'm hiding
Bad at denying
I need to feel
I need to scream
mostly defying
the urge to break
the urge to destroy
to disappear, to dissolve
I might be lying

To myself
to myself
My need for leaving or staying
is always unmet
with internal bleeding
my thoughts are paying
and these monsters
in my head
keep eating
Did I really put them there
myself?
Or did it happen back
when I was twelve?

I hear you
but your breath is so cold
I wanted to believe
in anything but you
But I think we got too old
and the house
my heart grew in
has long been sold

And when I'm drinking
you get angry
but what should I do?
My thoughts feel so scattered
and you can't pull me through

I'm trying
I'm fighting
Bad at denying
I need to feel
I need to dream
mostly defying
the urge to fake
the urge to decoy
to reappear, to resolve
I might be lying

to myself

Your eyes hold it all Jonno
The teeming history
The comings and goings
The pain and the plunder.

Joyful recollections
And the visceral laceration of serious battle.
Moments of tenderness
Understanding
and gentle humour
Tickling around the corners of your mouth.

Mile upon mile of endless dusty red road
In northern Australia,
Kangaroos and cold beer.
That debate over whose virginity mattered
And whether or not she cared....

Why, oh why did you tear yourself up
Over Gods part in the game?
He never really showed up, did he?
I recall that race you ran,
Courageously, mile after mile
And still came second to Southey...
How that ****** you off.

That last message...
Your eyes, the most alive part of you,
Saying more than the words could ever say.

Farewell sweet Prince....
In my heart
You shall always be my brother.

M.
3 September 2018

Sometimes I get this sensation
as I take my bare feet
and place them
into tight enclosed shoes
to walk a cold grey
concrete path
still rigid to the shards of
   broken dreams
and promises
scattered along the middle,
the sounds of other people's footsteps
drown out my insecurities
and the
insignificance of
a person who feels small
as I try to grasp at merging
into the person full of
light and meaning
who has a spark in her eye,
     destined to do and make great changes
instead of falling into her own world
of isolation and despair
glancing around myself, wondering whether or not
I actually belong
I don't see my name on the board
with my peers
standing in the crowd,
waiting for the crosslight
to let me walk
walk with them to the other side, but
somewhere along the way
do I get lost
or am I just destined to walk
the wrong path
just so I could be with my peers
who are, of course,
the future
who will change the world
who will introduce a revelation that will change
the biased courses of humanity

but as for me

the deafening screams and words of
other people's
lives, moments, recollections
and livelihoods
cover up my hushed pathetic cries
and calls for help
as I question all that is taking place
in every which way I look
somewhere out there
a mom and her growing daughter
become closer
as my own mom falls apart on me
unknowingly ripping apart my right to establish
an identity of my own
somewhere out there
a dad can tell his children
about his life experiences
of the virtues and humility within that led to
their blessed ways of life now
as my own dad
who deserves, at least
everything the world has to give
works harder and harder every day
and every second
to continue our "blessed" ways of life now

but despite all of that

I am told No-- just focus on yourself
make sure you don't miss the crosswalk
make sure you make us proud--
but they don't see
they are what matters
when it comes to
a kid hoping to grow into a better person

there are colors;

some old and chipped
and falling apart,
on the frames of people's
subconscious
while fresh new colors shimmer
in the evening
starlight atop blue waters
just waiting to be discovered, like a
blind person experiencing sight for the first time

but how can I see the night stars
and fall in love with
the moon's beauty
when I'm too busy staring
at the sun
trying to make my way
up to the very top
running, taking jagged steps,
bent over all broken and
crawling

just hoping to be remembered

as a great sign of the times.

i tell myself
i do not need
to live in the
wild,
as a butterfly
or a wasp
or as a bird.
i tell myself
i do not need
to cascade the
skies, because
to fly around
your ribcage
feels like the
only freedom i
ever need.
i thought that
maybe i would
come back as a
sparrow one day
to show the world
i was joyful and i
was not afraid.
i tell myself
that my sandpaper
heart finally
met something
soft around the
edges, to teach me
that love heals,
helps tend to the
wounds i tried
to lick clean when
my tongue was
laced in acid and
i tell myself,
i must have done
something worthy
along my timeline
to be blessed with
arms coated in baby
powder and blankets
to shield me from
the rain, i tell myself
i do not need to
live in the wild to
be free, for your
ribcage is the freest
a bluebird can be.

ocean and sky in mirror symmetry kiss
soft autumn sunshine shows shadows of bliss
the goddess of skies longs for the sea below
because only the ocean can make her heart glow
she'd give up the clouds, sun, and air, too
the ocean finds a way to paint her in blue
the waves crash against her golden wings
she's pulled back above like a puppet on strings
try as she may to break the shallows still
it seems like the fates laugh at her will
but little do they know that her will is true
and she'll find a way to greet the ocean anew
seize the very moon and control the tide
grow the ocean as high as it is wide
'til her reflection casts on the surface shown
deep beneath the seas skin, she's flown
deeper and deeper, she longs to go
until crashing waves come to a slow
and the stillness beneath ocean eyes greet
once more can the skies and the ocean meet