My life,
These times,
The epitome,
Of a downwards trajectory.

My existence is but a career,
I wish to resign,
So consider,
Every crooked letter of this poem
As one step closer to my resignation letter.

Recognise this note,
As my termination,
Of a short life,
Of poorly attempted dedication.

Working this life,
For minimum wage,
With out a break,
Except a broken sense of direction,
Displayed.

Life is merely a career
And I wish to swerve,
I wish to veer,
I wish for my torn family,
To not shed a tear.

Carve out the marrow in my bones
and plant a flower there.
Split my ribs for fence posts,
empty my skull for a watering can.
Use my hands for trowels,
plunge them into the earth.
I shall be pushing daisies
come the first sign of spring.

My hands,
Flightless birds with parchment skin,
marked with scars, glowing white.
They turn blue when the weather is cold.
The old wives say to look for men
with hard-working scars on their palms.
But what of a woman with marked hands?

Invisibility is a lonely place.
Quiet, peaceful, but empty.
There are others here, too.
But we're to afraid to speak.
for fear our voices will shatter glass of silence
that shields us from the rest of the world.
A desire rests deep in our hands
to strike the pane, color our knuckles with something
as real as blood and pain.
To see life in liquid form,
coursing down our pale skin,
grasp a hand from the other side
to be lost in deep words
with a like minded companion.
Traipsing down the deer trails of thought
while the leaves of dreams
fall at our feet.

Upon the hallowed ground she stood
The wind blew through her hair
A swallow swooped o’er the darkening sky
And the scent of rain filled the air

She heard the voices loud as thunder
Echo o'er hill and down
And warily she watched them
Ride their ghost mounts into the town

The rain now fell in torrents
Upon the hallowed field
But she moved not from her own same spot
As a deathly grip bid her yield

A hand of ice held fast her hem
Though she struggled against its grasp
She begged it there to let her go
Then from the earth she heard it rasp

‘One kiss my bonny sweetheart
the years were long since I saw thee last
It be cold here in the hallowed ground
Though I be but a memory of the past.’

‘I fought here on the battle ground
with rapier high and voice aloft
till down the enemy struck me fast
to lie in blood on the damp ground soft.’

The hand then loosed its steely grasp
And she saw her true love’s form
A cold and bleeding upon the ground
as more furious grew the storm

As the rain then pelted down around
The long lost lovers in their embrace
His bonny sweetheart spoke to him
With trembling lip and heart that raced

‘My own true love, my only
Long waited I for your return
I scorned the suitors who sought my hand
for your memory I would not scorn.

‘I prayed long for word or news
of thy well being or how thee faired,
but none e’re came to me at all
so I waited, hoping you had been spared.’

‘A truer love man never had
that would wait through tears and time
and keep the hope that I still lived
to find that in the ground I lie.

Forgive me, love, I’ve done thee wrong
To make thee wait for me so
Take my hand with one last kiss
And then my love, you must go.’

‘Nay my only, only love,
it’s here with you I’ll stay
I’ll not go back without thee,
I’ll stay by thy side, come what may.’

So upon the hallowed ground she lay
Hair damp and soaked to the skin
And by his side she lay all night
As she clutched his hand so thin.

The town knew not where she had gone
But in the morn they found
She’s gone to be with her one true love
Dead, upon the hallowed ground.

Night life fades to dead days
I looked at you and you didn't look the other way

You sat next to me by the bronze horse statue
In the heart of the city

On the seventeenth floor car park
Underneath the over head cranes

The sound of hollow trains
Screeched past then faded away
Like they had a better place to be

The company of a drink would have made the time fly
But alas, I was with out my flask
On this cool summer night

So high above the passersby
Telling each other poorly constructed truths
With a hint of carefully thought out lies

You creased your jeans
I rolled my sleeves
You dotted the I's
I crossed the T's

More than acquaintances
Less than friends
Popular amongst each other
Far from setting trends

Years of being **** on
Taken away in a day
The small things in life
All fell into place

A package came in the mail
I got a new tattoo
I booked a trip to Brisbane
I get to see you

The corner store didn't have
The cigarettes I wanted
I tried a brand they had
Kind of glad I got it

I made a new song
On my second hand guitar
It's not very good
But it's my favorite so far

I got the bus for a students fair
The café I went to was closed
They let me anyway
Why? I don't know

Now I'm sitting by a steady river
On the outskirsts of the city center
Just my perfect day and I
The wind blew past and didn't shiver
There's not a cloud in the sky