I think
I'm finally
In a place
Where being so sore
That walking up
A flight of
Thirteen stairs
Makes my legs burn
Feels good to me.

They say I'm getting stronger.
I think they're right.

at the desk, applying for jobs
there is coffee in my cup
and paint in the creases of my fingernails,
on the wall, a whiteboard with new song lyrics
and a list
of things I need to buy,
of course, once I have the money to buy them,
which brings me back to the desk
which an empty bottle of Cabernet Merlot
sits with an empty glass
and notebooks and a mason jar
with cloudy brown-red water
from the bristles of my paintbrushes
my coffee is cold
the french press is in the kitchen
but my flatmate is filming in there
so I’m stuck at my desk
with two sips of cold coffee left,
applying for jobs.
I feel very fragile
right now,
partly because I didn’t go to a job interview
today,
partly because I didn’t go to a job trial,
on friday
though I don’t want to be a waitress
and **** modelling for art classes scares me.
there’s a plant on my windowsill
named Lucy
and she doesn’t have to do anything
and there are two vanilla candles and an incense holder
with lavender incense burning
but **** all the things that
"bring peace"
like small plants, candles, incense, crystals and photographs;
I want a healthy and clean life,
so I have these things
part as a protection
from my own mind
but to be perfectly honest,
I’m at the desk, browsing jobs online,
saving them for later into a bookmark folder entitled
"Wellington Jobs"
instead of actually applying.

A man is a Good Man
Because he has himself some rules
Rules to follow
Rules to watch
He has so many rules

I have rules for myself
Rules for love and war
I keep them close
I keep them safe
Locked behind a door

But now of recent
I have my worries
For I watch them
But ignore them
And forget them in a hurry

I have my fear
I am a Good Man no more
For I have broken
And long forgotten
My rules of love and war

We're locked in a race
And the only way to get out
Is by
Winning.

It's silent.
Stealthy.
Unspoken.
Secret.

There aren't rules
Or guidelines
Or officials.

The way it works
Is
Whoever kills themselves first
Wins.

the holidays are rolling around and i am determined to be ok
i will not write poetry about how much i miss my un-broken family
i will continue on as if nothing happened
if i do it long enough maybe i will believe it
maybe i won't have to burn my arms to jolt me back to reality
maybe things will be ok

good things come of it?
good things already have.
i'm just waiting for the good
to out weight the bad

You wanted me
But now you have her
I'm only concerned
Because you flirt
With every girl

I broke your heart
Three times before
But if you break hers
Or take her innocence
You'll be dead by four

So *******.

You were there
In the cold of afternoon
And you were there
When I dozed off too soon
You were in my dream
Of parties and smoke
You were in my dream
And in it you spoke
You told how you'd been
And you stood a little close
A felt your lips on mine
As you slowly spoke
And I wanted to kiss
But listened instead
As you whispered and joked
About crazy in the head
For I knew you before
When you smiled quite sane
But then, I knew you before
You ever spoke with disdain
But then I got mad
As I slowly realized
That all the boys I have loved
Don't carry real eyes
For their eyes were all fake
With a bright shine of star
That hid their sad madness
Unless you looked from afar
And as I awoke
I knew the truth to be
All the "sane" boys I've loved
Are all crazies in my dreams