It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
Contorts
And twists and
Snaps.

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.

Whose gun is at your head?

Hippie song circles,
Twist and turn your fate
Show me what's beyond the eye
Taste the absinth and watch the illusions.
Mold me to this earth
And soak me in,
I want to be whole,
I want to be whole again.
Close your eyes and we'll place daisies
In your unbrushed, long blonde hair
LSD, LSD, oh, sweet drugs
Drink my soul and breathe me out as smoke
Dellusions, illusions
Take me back in time
I don't feel right.
Keep me in these guitar kissed
Hippie song circles forever.

My front doors hinges
soon have to be replaced.
And it's sad because
it's not just from old age.
The amount of people
that have entered my life
and then left, is phenomenal.
The roses in my front yard,
have also wilted and crumbled
see, they were forgotten and trampled
when you showed up.
Now their petals are just litter
on my overgrown lawn
which i no longer have the strength to fix.
and if the fact that my garden gnomes
were all smashed to pieces
isn't bad enough, then i guess
the wall paper thats peeling
is probably worse.
But it's cold in here,
everyone's ghosts seemed to have stayed
when they all left.
I'm alone in this house,
i'm alone in here
because these memories always fade.
My house is losing it's colour
even when i throw around the paint.

As it continues to grow darker,
My lungs continue to morph or dry out.

Air.
Is it a saviour or suffocation?

My brain has been torn apart
Crumpled together
And smeared across the billboards of my timeline
My heart shredded and trampled on
My body has seen torments and tortures
That parents fear and
Don’t understand the possibility.
I was told it was my fault.
Every action had its cause.
Every act of terror had its reason.
Me.

But it was never my fault.

I wasn’t the reason I hated this thigh,
Or this skin
Or these bones.
Or this brain
This way of thinking.

Nothing was ever wrong with me.

Preach your colourful knowledge of me,
From a jaw that could hold nothing more than a faint whisper of insincerity
And a flailing bird tangled on your tongue.
But when the rainbow bursts;
Don't attempt to rain materialism down on me
Stuff your grocery store heart shaped chocolates up your nose.
And stop dreaming up all the sadness I stand for.
I am not your fixer-upper-er.
I am whole, trust me,
The serpent rejoins once cut
And heals.
I am a serpent, rainbow and colourless.
Materialistic seduction...
Give me a minute while I puke fluro ***** on your shoe,
You are the needy one and I remain whole...  
Scuffed and cracked
I am healing, alone.
But I am whole.  
Mixing strings of blues, greens and pinks
Into one strand,
There are scars.

Every time something new and exciting happens,
I'd write a letter to mumma,
ever since I was six.
New Ma and Pa gave me a pen and paper
one day, and an envelope with a unfamiliar adress,
they said, "Write 'til your hearts content, sweetheart."
My first letter had terrible spelling,
with backwards letters,
But it had meaning,
it read, "Where are you mumma?"

I wrote a letter for each week,
and New Ma would let me put it in the box,
down by the train station,
I'd run home as fast as I could
and Pa told me that if I sit by the letterbox
too much, a patch of grass next to it would die,
so I sat at the door step waiting instead.

As I grew up,
The amount of letters I'd write would
slowly decline, I'd write more in depth
than one sentence, but only once a month.
At the age of 17, I'd write only 2 letters a year,
Christmas and what they told me was her birthday.

I'm 29 now, I still write her a letter
whenever I have time,
and somedays, when I feel lost,
or empty inside,
I'll still sit by the dusty letterbox
and wait.

*Dear Mumma,
I'm 29 today, are you proud?

How are you?
Are you fine?
Are you fascinated by stars?
I watch them tonight,
As I write to you.

Mumma, I have some sad news,
New Pa had been terribly ill for weeks,
Months maybe, but it all seemed too quick.
He passed away last week, Mum.
Pa was a beautiful man,
I wish you met him, Mum,
You would have liked him,
Every one did.

At the end of Pa's funeral,
New Ma handed me a shoe box
covered in tear drops
and her shaky hands were so pale.
But, Mum, do you know what was inside?
The box held every single one of my letters
That I had sent you,
All were stamped with "RETURN TO SENDER".

On sunny days,
I still wait for you at parks, Mum.

From your forgotten daughter,
Florence.
I love you.

I.
People leave huge
Holes in your spine.

II.
But flowers die,
Crumbling deaths,
For one heartwarming
Moment.

III.
An empty skull;
Suffocating... thoughtless breaths.
Trembling feet as I walk among the dead,
Are you afraid?

IV.
I'm afraid.

V.
"Unattainable"
What a throne I slouch upon.

The counsellors office has always been uneasy
and the chairs always too cold
always a small breeze with the windows
not even cracked open.

This was the newest patients second visit,
everything was casual,
routine questions,
just another average case
but then there was a sudden silence,
the patient became curious and fidgety,
the counsellor sat waiting, watching.

"uh, doc. I know this isn't your dance
or anything,
but do you feel that?"

It had gotten the slightest bit colder
but that was usual
in these 2 decade old buildings.
"feel what, kiddo?"

"That!"

the patient standing now,
was pointing to the door,
as the violent ghosts swooped in
attacking them both,
too much blood and two mangled bodies
on the floor,
the receptionist didn't even hear a scream.

With the next appointment,
the receptionist walked in
getting a mouthful
of that putrid metal-blood taste.

I guess even buildings have a tormenting past.

I speak alot of the burn of breathing
and I dream of the day my lungs collapse.

Rot, rot, rot,
worms would have a field day with my decomposing body.
but even their digested parts of me
couldn't make a garden grow.

Whose gun is at your head?
Tomorrow I graduate,
And feast on my heart; they're giving it back.
Only small parts though...
Freedom is not exactly free.

As I tick through a day that doesn't feel
     R. E. A. L.
I'll remember a time when eating clocks
Was a delight
And night never came
Because time never sung.

But what will tomorrow bring?
The final burst of detrimental metaphors and acidic teachers egos,
Who depend on a pay package
"Not enough" for their knowledge.
They should've stayed human.

I wince as the cogs twist
And an ever continuing robotic system
Chomps down on thousands of more souls.

And I beg for new a freedom.

Empty, flatline numbness, marry me! Marry me!
Oh, jester in white inhale yourself; nothing but a fool.
Do you know your fate?
Majestic brutality, do you know your fate?
Heart beats so rhythmic, it's a brand new taste.
A white noise craze, walk along the pretty phase.
Tongue tied fantasies, drop dead harmonies and the worlds upside down.
Posiden met Godzilla, it's nothing you said it was.
Kitty cat, baseball bat ate your face, jester start again.
Ghoul, ghoul, ghoul dressed in white, take my veins, weave a gown.
We will dance, tonight, dance so pretty in the light.
Tell me, ever painted beauty in blood?
Oh, wicked numbness, Marry me! Marry me!

But what is a soldier without his gun?
A brave little boy, playing makebelieve
in his room with a plastic G.I Joe doll,
his camouflage inaccurate and too yellow.
Plastic sand bag barriers scattering the floor
this boy has never learnt a thing of the war.
leaving it all up to imagination
he takes the tiny plastic radio
and calls in, "Mission complete -
Commander, we're comming home.
Over and out".
Creating a fake static noise with his mouth
which takes us to a new scene.
Accurate camouflage colours this time,
the australian flag on his shoulder,
but that little boy from his room
is now wearing them as a man.
A soldier he has become
with destruction all around him,
he was flown to Vietnam.
A high-tech radio for real this time,
"Man down! Man down!"
One of his unit fell heavy in the mud.
303. slung over our little-boy-from-his-room's shoulder
he drags the wounded behind trees and shrubs
an act of valour.
Though, our little boy did not know,
that he'd be wounded too
and comming home tomorrow.

wrote your name in the sand
watched the waves wash
and take it,

so,

i wrote your name
and all my fears
at the bottom
of a bottle of jack,

I found them every night.

You're in every
Decision i make,
you're in every
sip i take.

One more day like this,
blood will turn to wine.

Another hour unseen,
another promise broken.

One more battle,
One more scar to keep you ashamed.

Blink once,
don't you dare look back,
walk away with the sunrise
keep the devils stare.

I'll meet you there.
I'll meet you somewhere
away from here.

Sleepless nights,
harvest the worst dreams,
I thought you said you didn't feel pain?

Two more lungs,
dried up and corrupt,
we'll walk out
and drown together.

These beasts and demons you speak of
these things you warn your listeners of
i am them,
the addictions, disorders, fears,
I am them.
They have become me, I accept that,
I am everything you all hate,
the lies, deception,
I am them
I am everything you despise in this spinning world
and I don't know how to escape their spells.

Perhaps I'll find my tongue one day,
Soon after I stumble upon stable feet.
Dreaming of colourful winter days
Spent waking you up for tea.

It's getting harder and harder to breathe,
Out of fear of spitting the blackening  truths inside me.
You are rainbows; and sunflower meadows,
I am the remnants of a fire pit, burnt for over a thousand lives;
I amount to coals and hot embers havent rolled past for a while.
There is no spark.
I have six layers of skin
Scorched with darkness.
And I am guiltily okay with that.

It was my birthday.
And the first thing i could say to my coworkers when I saw them after was
“I didn’t cry”

And it’s true.
For the first time in 25 years
I can genuinely say I’m happy
And I had an amazing day.

I didn’t cry,
I smiled and laughed,
Had fun
And felt like myself.
Free, happy, unshackled.

I’m happy.
It took a while,
It took some tears,
It took pain,
It took blood,
But I am happy.
So extremely me
And so ******* happy.

Lipstick isn't the only thing that stains anymore.

Stubborn eyeliner has marked last nights man.

Tomorrow brings another day, but the same routine

and a different greedy look as she walks to the corner.

theres not enough water to wash away her diseases, dear.

Just a pest, a rat scattering the streets

with nothing more than a cigarette and greed in her hand.

Stumble, filth. stumble, stumble stumble *****.

Shes the highest range of STI distribution.

I say, she deserves a lukewarm meal.

Welcome mad scientists, friends, lovers with dismembered heartstrings, ghosts, rain drops, dreamt-up-star-children and perhaps child geniuses.
This is chaos.
My soul has been observing people for centuries.
I am an empath.

No,
The last dim glimmer of self respect
Will not die out right now.
I'm sorry, Boo,
But I will not show my ***** to you.
You filthy excuse for a human.
I'll staple your eyes shut one day
Trust me, I will and I can.
Such a horrible, horrible minded piece of flesh,
Does it occur to you that you're rotting?
Claim to be Christian, but um...
Are you still a ******?
Haha, Don't say yes, you're a lie
And you had your fun between her thighs,
I'm so glad you never met mine.

I couldn't rush any quicker
Than to taste something
More bitter than your soul.
And swearing on improper nouns
I told myself to never look
Directly at your heart...

I did; you turned to stone.

Today has a weird air about it,
It’s sunny and bright and still
But it feels like mourning.

Is this preemptive?
Premonition?
Or a soft surrender to all my trauma.
A delicate laying down of flowers,
Soft cloths,
A blanket of tears
For versions of me that never survived
Or who were taken by the darknesses.

We move by instinct,
Darling, move by instinct...
Shuffle past barriers,
Push through foggy eyes,
Hold me close...
Warm, together.
I'm crumbling darling,
Move by instinct,
Hold me in your arms.
Find a temporary repair,
My tourniquet.
I'm falling all over drenched eyes.
Faint screams ring,
Chiming louder and louder
The more you fade from view.
Move by instinct darling,
Move into me.

You swore you wouldn’t hurt me,
And I swear the ache in my bones is all your fault.

Or maybe it’s mine?
For giving in too easily,
For giving you too much of my heart.

And you know I’m terrified of drowning,
But this silence is consuming me.
Swelling my lungs.

This keeps happening,
Like the sun sets and the waves crash...
People keep leaving me.

Sit with a blank stare,
Mechanical chest,
In... Out.
In... Out.
Throbbing of a sore heart
Da dum.
Da dum.
Left foot twitches;
Itching
To walk the world.
Despondent minds.
Blink once, stare.
Sit and stare.

From across the dim
Hazy room,
I ask,
"What...
What are you...
Waiting for?"

Quietly, you answer,
Careful not to break
Your intense stare.
"Here, I wait
For the world to change,
For it to accept me
And my failed attempts
To be something more."

Stroll in,
Stay a little,
Take what you need…
What you desperately want.
Leave.
Leave.
Leave.
The door never stops spinning.
Earthquake, storm..
Not even a calm summer breeze
Can make anyone stay.

Nothing steadies the dizziness.
Nothing eases the gagging pain.
Nothing ends this.

Did I forget to mention
How adorable you are
When you're intoxicated?

Or was the sarcasm not thick enough?

And do you forget
When "I dont wanna be dr-drunk anymore"
Dribbled from your mouth?

You stink.
Go home.

I know it's real,
2000 years with a lack of sleep
I'm forever dreaming and it's of you
Flutterbies and burnt dandy lions
I walk a thousand miles in unknown shoes
I've lost control, slipped into madness
And drowned in a scent that brings me home
I still don't know if you're real.
A day to day existence
No substance
And heartache reassurance
I miss you, the clouds are cold without you
And it's winter but fire rumbles within the ground  
The elements miss you and fail to comfort me like you do.

BLEE
         EE
              EE
                   EED!
Dig that ******* razor DEEPER into your wrists.
Practice what you preach, and show us you're not afraid.
Don't just scratch with a pin and claim to slash them.
Practice what you preach. Practice what you preach.

I've always been unsure of you,
never knowing whether  
you're a psycopath or if you just
care too much about people
who don't deserve to be loved,
people like me, who
just take and take and take,
who abuse every one for their stupidity
and poeple like me who never love.
You've always been to clingy
asking how I am
too many times in the short span
of one day, if I could really be bothered
to count, I'd say you'd say hello
at least 10 times before midday.
And it's scary.
Don't get me wrong,
admiration is cute,
but it transforms into stalking
very, very quickly.

"Whatever you do, do not travel alone.
That way you have memories you both could only ever have known.
You'll always have something special with them.
Travelling with another person is a gem.

-"What if you'd rather travel and see the world on your own?
And just meet people along the way?  As you said, you're never truly alone."

"Why's that, Maddy?"

-"Well, what if you're happier alone with oneself?
And, sir, you can't leave yourself..."

Blisters. So many blisters. But I had to keep running. I had to get away from him. I forced the thought of my aching feet out of my mind. I had to keep running. Desperation and fear were now controlling me. My mouth was so dry, my legs burned, my knees were coated in blood and the tears made it difficult to see, but I kept going. The pain and tiredness didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except running.

I have never realised just how dangerous the streets had become… all I wanted was to go out and have fun, but now I was being chased through the town by a hideous beast. The thought of the town going down the drain quickly left my mind, I had to concentrate on keeping the concrete rolling underneath me. I had to keep running.
My dress had begun to tear and my feet looked like the aftermath of a chainsaw massacre. Pain? I could no longer feel it. I didn’t know where I was going… all I knew was that I was going to get away from this man. I had to.

Eventually, I turned onto Swan Street which would, at one stage, lead to the hospital. Once at the hospital, I’d be safe. I hope…

RUN! RUN! KEEP RUNNING! The words stuck on repeat in my head. Out of curiosity, though, I spun my head around to see if he was still there. Black. Just the black of the night followed me. A screech from deep within my body erupted. It was a noise I’d never thought I could create but I continued running for the safety of the hospital.

Then, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I turned down an alleyway, in hope it be a quicker route to safety, and stopped halfway down the alley. There he was. Just standing there. His grin gleaming in the dim light. No longer could I scream. No longer could I run. Fear had taken a strong hold on me, forcing me into becoming a statue. He begins to laugh as he moves closer and closer and soon enough he reaches his hand out…

Emtpy. Just emptiness. At first, I thought I was dead until the throbbing in my head begun. I was alive and in a dark metal box. He, the predator, had won his prize.

I lay on my back, absorbing the pressures
Of the rocks beneath me, I breathe.
Eyelids resting on now blind eyes, I feel.
I stretch out as high as possible and hold it...
Allowing each fingertip to tingle, arms fall.
A rush of blood and my eyes snap open,
I see colours never known to man,
Unpaintable by all extremes.
Now, I sit cross-legged
Rocking as the wind sways.
The small clearing expands, opening up,
I see more now than two 1800's explorers
Ever did as they searched the world for forgiveness.
Looking up, it has grown dark
A deep blue, a deep grey.
It proceeds to rain, closing my eyes,
I open my mouth as if to speak...
The taste of wilderness rushes in.
Heavier, precipitation grows,
Heavier and birds begin to scream,
Landing at my sides, eyelids open...
I remain still. Screaming songs so intense,
The birds, they start to dance.
A pair with the tango,
Three with the jive,
I smile... I'm alive.
Beckoning me to join...
We danced all night.

The monster of insanity stuck it's fist down my throat,
tore out my sanity, 
and it's watching me bleed out. 
Tell me, why is the monster dancing?

Fangs so jagged, 
tearing my flesh, 
leaving me skinless. 
Is this all because I'm weak,? 
Nothing more than a putrid pile of dying flesh. 
Can this all be undone? 
Insanity, sharpen these teeth, 
take them as a trophy, 
I am nothing more than a horror show 
with only trophy teeth to show for it. 

A mass murdering beast, 
Keeping you just alive, torture. 
Chain saw massacre, 
Where you haven't been cut entirely through, 
Metallic taste on plump ****** lips, 
All the stories that can only be whispered now, 
Never heard. 
I'll tear out bullets from purple skin, 
Darling, hold the gun. 
A slowing heart beat, 
Locked forever in a glass coffin,
Another trophy.

Repulsion always looked so good on you
when you'd find out about things I'd done,
Yeah, yeah I'm a teenage *****
But that ***** had *** on your floor!
And at school when you watch me,
It's like you're waiting to be shocked.
Shake your head at me, go on, do it.
You need to know, you're no ******* angel.
It's okay, It's okay. you can go smoke ****
and then judge me,
Cause hypocrites your second language, baby.

How ironic it is
That we mutilate this earth
With the very substances
That bind it.

And how humorous we are
That we think
We can save ourselves
From us.

I mean...
You could’ve left me at the altar.
It could be worse than this.

Despite my heart dripping through
My broken rib cage...
It could be worse than this.

One day of feeling like I’m being
Crushed and flattened into mud.
But it’s okay,
Because I refuse to be worse than this.

At nineteen,
I told you my deepest darkest secret.
I thought I could rely on you to hold my hand through the pain.
Figured the fact we knew each other for so long meant we had a bond.

At nineteen, I told you he ***** me.

At nineteen, you shapeshifted.
You morphed into a volcano.
You became explosive with rage.

You told me it was my fault.
That I had to make it up to you.

At nineteen, I told you more truths.
At nineteen, you refused to believe
Or acknowledge, understand,
Or even think for a second that he tried to **** me.

I guess that was something only you were allowed to do.

But it’s all true.
The years I’ve spent walking through hell.
From both of you.
I know you said to never compare you to him.
But you’re much the same.
That’s why you were so afraid when in a sentence I spoke both your names.