I sit at the table
While a different part of my brain
Tells me that I can't eat
Or i'll go through more pain

The bullies will come back
They'll hurt me more
I hate my life
I miss how it was before

Why is it so hard to eat
Why is it so hard to talk
Why is it so hard to run
instead of choosing to walk

I don't want to gain weight
I don't want to lose
I wish that whether I eat or not
Is something I can choose

My friends have started to notice
How little I eat….
I don't want to talk about it…

.
.
.
Are not your eyes set on the truth

Or do they seek out the illusions
made up from the images of your youth

Have you catagorized the abstract from practical truth

Or elevated your opinions
to be the irreversible truth ?

Where is the lamp that Diogenes bequeathed to you ?

Do you now stumble over the light ,
over false accusations with fingers pointing at you ?

Are they not false prophets
full of wind ?

Whose breath blows out the candles of tomorow
leaving the shadows to strut within ?

Turn the words to fire and let them consume the wooden thoughts

From the dust to the ashes

Salt poured on the lashes

Burn the truth to create

light for the righteous

Wings of desire

Exiting that dark box with the crowd -
Catharsis
I dap my friends up, trot off
In my comfy Salomons, up to the cultural centre.
Board the 345, rest my head against the glass.
See the lights of the highway and the reflection of the river dance in between the bridges railings.
Subterranean
Against the window, Watch the different peoples faces as the walk down the isle
She’s going to make someone smile
He’d be nice to have a beer with
She’s missing home I bet
He’s probably someone’s dad
They’re new to Brissy.
Hop off, power walk back to the house over wavey KG hills.
Pass Queenslanders with pink lit rooms
Warmly suspended units
Glowing windows in distant terraces
Glancing into every home, a fraction of a life at time
Feeling a part of it all
Cross the road
Inspect the curb side collection
Almost don’t notice the watering can -
Perfect, I can use this for my new plants
Come inside
Write this poem
Marnie in my headphones
Solitude
And surrounding suburbs.

2. Paris Texas

Driver don’t slow down now
Keep going
Don’t drop me to my house
I don’t want to   be   anymore
I wanna look out the passenger window forever
I wanna to be a gaze with no body
I wanna be incorporeal
Rid me of this vessel and the weapon it conceals
I don’t want to be the perceiver, just the spectator
Looking out at shimmering office blocks
Meshes of rushing leaves
Languid and fluid
Evaporate me into the Ether
Undo my flesh and with it, sin
I don’t want to   be   anymore
Make me into one of those angels , floating around listlessly
Clip my desires and give me wings
Drop me in the Texas dirt, and wipe my guilt away.

3. Perfect Days

Coming into that bright globe
Reality
I hug my sister goodbye , I’ll see her again tomorrow
But after…
The sun on my skin , from euphoric to swampy
The facade of happiness or stubborn sadness
Arbitrary either way
My legs carry me across the bridge,
I see so many people
I will be okay without them
I see a little beetle struggling on its back, my finger goes down to turn him over
I contain multitudes
I am not the best or the worst of what I’ve done
I am brown Brisbane water
Stretching out to blue pacific sea
Don’t chase that ghost of euphoric transformation
Change is constant and gradual, like rocks worn by water
Like rivers changing shape
Come into yourself
Returning agency
Over lapping Shadows of perfection
52 days.

This morning, I come to my table once more,
A cup of coffee gently steams,
Warming hands that feel weighted down
Again and again, I type my goodbye,
But I always delete it, hoping there’s still something else I can do.

You, who have filled my days until now,
Like mornings begun with easy conversations,
And afternoons spent lost in tasks, one after another—
Today, it feels different, as the countdown begins.

The longer I sit, the more I realize this chair no longer fits me
I trace the quiet walls, so familiar with laughter, complaints, and tireless effort
Each corner here has its own story.

Though my heart is still full, I know I must leave
Tomorrow, someone else will sit here, bringing even bigger dreams
For now, I leave my memories in this last sip of coffee,
Heading to the door that’s always greeted me each morning,
Now releasing me gently, like a Momiji branch lets go of its leaves around the building in autumn.

Cursed with freedom

My soles drag like burning cigarettes
Asphalt kissing rubber
And sent to heaven
Wiping my cheek, blessing my breath
Outside myself
Untethered

Kicking cans
Smelling blinkers
Taste the railing, looking over the go-between
Wishing
To float down
Untethered

Clutching for a warmth
a smirk
Cosplaying as a confident man
Airing out my forced laughs
into void
Untethered

Sinking higher
Balloon chasing the atmosphere
Escaping hands I held
Head ringing
Phone undead
Untethered

Five months Southside
Open world purgatory
Office building obituary
I’ll be on the other side of the globe soon
And still won’t elude My tether