sometimes that’s all I remember
the purple and red lights
***** before noon
and empty pill bottles
people liked me the most back then
I sometimes think that was the problem
they liked me the most
I don’t think they ever knew me

being sober gets quiet

I like this life

the sober one

740 days
17760 hours
1065600 minutes
63936000 seconds

I knew I felt off
it was the day after
I should have known
I forgot...

"how'd you know? who told you?"

"no one, you just look different now"

although you almost killed me
you gave me a reason to live
not the life you wanted-
but one where I am truly myself

“you’re seem more gentle now”
not longer out of fear
not in a cry for protection or to be a haven
but in the most observant way possible-
I have become softer than before

and "just like that"
I was back where it all started
I could feel their hands engulf me
the pulling getting needier and harder

"****"

I am not satisfied often but-
with their hands around my neck
to me, there is a constant craving
one that I will be a **** for
I grasped
I could feel my vision going out
there is something invigorating-
I could feel everything slipping away
but all I could say was-

"harder"

closer and closer to the line
that I hope you would cross

I want the pain to match the kind I have in my head

the kind with-
swollen eyes
bruised faces
****** lips
and sore hands

please,

harder

the hardest pill to swallow is realizing
that people who don't get obsessed with you
right away means they aren't looking for someone
to make them feel good
this means they're actually looking at you for you
who you are
then you realize that everyone who got obsessed wit
h you immediately was just because of how
you made them feel
not because they actually loved you

I remember frantically calling you
every what if thought on my mind
it was very much unlike you to not answer
I came up the steps to the house
I could see you dancing with my mom
from outside the living room window...
hearing laughter and shrieks of happiness
I had not seen her smile like that since I was young
my mom still talks about you sometimes...
sometimes I think she mourns more than I do

I think we are all still healing from it

I enjoy all the moments her and I have captured
I feel at peace in her presence  
although sometimes when you look at recordings of us together-
you can see my fears..
when I coward
when I flinch
she’ll often cry-
it fills her with disgust and rage
to know that’s all my brain has known
it’s simply an instant reaction
the nightmares and sweats -
it leaves me skittish to most  
everyday is a little bit more healing
together and apart
as we trace the scars left and kiss them anyways

and whenever she kisses me goodbye she traces all the parts she tells me she adores
starting at the bridge of my nose-
kissing every beauty mark I have on my face
going down to my neck and to both sides of my cheeks crossing over each of them again
I can’t help but smile and blush
kissing me once more on my lips
before we stare at each other just a few
seconds longer

I wish this goodbye was simply goodnight

"are you doing alright? I haven't heard from you in a while"
my mother texted me and I finally realized
when I enjoy my life - proud of the life I live
I capture it like it is the first time
text, photos, videos, phone calls
whether I have done it a million times or not
photos on trails and outlooks, the smallest good news,
phone calls that last for hours and hours
"hey mom! look at this! look what I did!"
sometimes even videos to pick out my outfits
others would say a bit naive
October rolled around and I realized
it only took two for me to no longer be proud
no text, no photos, no videos, or calls
I was no longer me

sand crusted eyes and auburn tint hair
honeyeaters chirping outside the window
“you’re not the same bloke you used to be”
I feel a drenched wetsuit graze my face
“you just going to stare at me? get up!”
she opens all the living room windows as I stretch out upon the couch
the hardwood floors are lukewarm
I can smell the saltwater from here
I almost forgot what the horizon looked like
“grab your board, I want to show you a spot”
she said as she rushed out the front door
I could hear the pajero start from the kitchen
I scampered down the stairs and tossed my board on the upper racks
as we drove, we traced all the familiar roads
filled with the sweetest memories
the music faded in and out with small static in between- it felt almost feverish
we rolled to a stop on a questionable trail
she could see the confusion in my eyes but I knew I could trust her
we began the hike of what felt like forever
upon surfacing from the trees
I saw what I only thought I’d see in my dreams
so captivating- I stopped and stared
the sand felt like cloth and the water was flat
“all the legends start here”
she began running to the water and I trailed close behind
and for a split second we were 10 years old again
racing each other to the shore
she always won anyways-
we paddled far beyond the outside
the sun began to break the horizon
we sat and watched as it reflected on the water
I brushed my hand upon the surface
It was like touching a painting
I felt weightless
I closed my eyes
I could feel the warmth upon my skin

“I guess you’re a benny now”
“I guess I am”

there was a bit of silence that past-

“are you alright?”
“yeah, it’s just good to be home…”

I always drove
it provided a sense of control
you in the passenger seat
but I always missed out-
looking at you-
studying the features of your face
deciding which freckle was my favorite
so when you ask me
"why do you keep staring at me"
and I reply "I'm just looking"
I am catching up from all the times
I didn't get the chance to

one day it clicked,
I didn't leave because I stopped loving you.
I left because the longer I stayed
the less I loved myself.
in exchange for your self-loathing, sadness,
and fears - I gave you my optimism,
confidence,
and patience.

I just wanted you to love yourself like I loved you.
the weight of the both of us is too heavy to bear.

"what do you miss most about her?" he asked.

she smirked as she pulled the cigarette away from her lips.

"I don't know, probably the ***"

I realized I didn’t need to “loosen up”
I will greet you with a mouth full of barbed wire
until you learn to stop approaching me
with your hands
I am not a fantasy
and I am especially not yours
anger does not save
but boundaries do

I am from chipped beveled glass
from hand-me-downs and prideful hearts
I am from the burning cities of Perth
where art is a way of life and beaches are home
I am from a peaceless nights' sleep
with covered ears and whimpering cries
I am from closet thoughts
from the "what ifs" and "could nevers"
I am from the empty holidays
with lonely living rooms and booked flights

off season bearings
just by a month
not all things ripe have fallen
waiting just for you
beauty with every purpose
with no intentions of partaking
fresh stitches at every seam
you too only last for two
so we make the best of time
doused with laughter and sunburnt cheeks
didn't know spring could last a lifetime
two , two weeks of bloom--
and we're already half way through
the seasons don't deter the seeds we sow
with sunshine like her its endless
so we water with unknowing scythes
knowing that any season can be ours