Don’t fret about me,
I’m doing ok.
I understand that you’re worried,
but I’m grieving my way.
I need to keep busy
or my thoughts start to stray,
I’d sit and dwell if I let me,
but coulda, shoulda won’t pay.
Drugs are a blessing
I’ll damn well numb what I may,
Take a walk wearing my shoes
before having your say.
I understand that you’re worried,
but grief is different each day.
I love you for caring.
I’m doing ok.
You cannot force my love
You won’t keep me with a scare
I don’t respect your anger
I refuse to live in fear.
I can’t be always wrong
You can’t control the way I feel
I won’t surrender to your violence
This time we’re over.
This time, for real.
Hickory dickory doo
He swore to be loyal and true
But his lies are unravelling
with gossip that’s travelling
Hickory dickory doo.
.
Gods gift to the world
demands centre stage.
It has to go his way,
or it’s the highway to rage.
Stamping his feet
he throws his weight round,
giving lectures for hours
he likes hearing his sound.
A well practiced charmer
with the women he chooses,
his affection’s the prize,
it’s his girlfriend who loses.
.
WoW!! Only someone who knows this pain could express it so beautifully.
The sunshine abandoned my window.
The cold chills me down to the bone.
I’m slipping away from my lover.
I’d rather be lonely, alone.
Up high in my room full of smoke,
breathing starts as numb eases my soul.
Rehearsing my well practiced smile,
I’m the star of today’s “OK” role.
And so begins my week of disgrace.
My crime?
Too opinionated.
This is the point where I feel like really
(getting smart)
speaking my opinion.
I guess I’m finally learning
to shut my mouth though.
.
The air is thick between us,
the silence is intense.
We fall to pieces over little things,
so quick to take offense.
When you look at me with violent eyes
I know your tempers at it’s peak.
Right on cue you’ll up and leave,
and then ignore me for a week.
A guest arrives, oh, just my luck
my visitor is Madam Muck!
She walks red carpet
(in her head)
one ego, truly overfed.
God’s greatest gift is her, she thinks
She’s well convinced her shit don’t stink.
An hour will with ease suffice
for her to show she isn’t nice.
Cos true beauty isn’t pretty skin,
it’s measured from your heart within.
The poster girl from glamour mag,
is really just a glittered hag.
.
Our home has become full of things
that you never saw.
As I look around
I can see
how much time has passed
since you died.
.
A cloud of smoke blowing out from my window
signals the beginning of a glorious day
The grief builds up.
It hurts when it comes out.
Sometimes I try to hold it in.
But it builds up.
And up.
And up.
Until I can’t hold it in anymore.
When a friend tells you something,
it should only be the truth.
Peer out through the curtains
watch up and down the street,
walk around on tip toes
‘cos everyone’s asleep.
Puff away quite cheerfully
nobody here to share,
spend hours at the window
stuck in a late-night stare.
I sit up late and smoke alone
recalling happy times I’ve known.
My thoughts kick back in relax zone,
with no proportions over blown.
In musky air from smoke I’ve blown
I surrender to the calm of stone.
You offend.
You say sorry.
Repeat.
Over and over again.
…
I have let this happen too many times.
Fuck you.
Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore.
Today starts with a sigh
as I sit in bed and puff.
I’m trying to get high
but I can’t get high enough.
Hurt keeps falling from my eye
my day ahead is looking rough.
I just want to get high
to put a smile on, and bluff.
Today I opened a box full of memories
and the first thing I saw
was your beautiful face
smiling up at me…
It’s been two and a half years
since I saw your smile.
How have I survived so long…
when my heart died
with you.
I’m disappointed, my friend
all your work’s down the drain
you’ve let go of control
and got hungry again.
Your eyes are the windows
to the fix on your mind.
I care too much to feed you…
Sometimes cruelty is kind.
You’ve left me frustrated
and climbing the wall
so many times
I can’t count them at all.
I gave you a warning
You’ve not taken heed
so I’m turning the page
in my chapter of need.
Disappointed lingerie
lays crumpled on the floor
questioning why it had been put on in the first place
when nobody even showed up
to admire it.
She demands he doesn’t visit me
She’s laying down the law
She took off her engagement ring
until we’re friends no more.
I’m feeling guilt to be the cause
though no wrong have I done,
she insists he ends all ties with me
but I’m no threat!
She’s his number one.
Long time good friend.
Sexual hints echoing loudly
in awkward silence…
I spy with my little eye
clues that a friend tells a lie.
My gut loudly shouts
real and reasonable doubts
of the break in at home,
and 1 friends whereabouts…
Rudeness.
No-one has the right to talk down to others.
Pull your head in and remember:
Only a fool upsets the person who is serving their food.
Now isn’t our time.
I still think of you every day though.
Maybe even every hour
sometimes…
But it isn’t our time.
.
My ex husband joined me for a beer
to wish me luck and christmas cheer.
My very first with neither child
No pretty tree with presents piled.
I wipe the tears out of my eye
and roll a smoke to lift me high.
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Christmas equals stress for some
“I want, I want” sucks all the fun
Impossible to please each one
Spent all your cash, now left with none
The price of making Santa come
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum…
My phone beeps…
Yet another text from you.
“Yes, I do have plans sorry” I reply.
You’re persistent, but I’m not cancelling anything for you.
Afterall, that’s how it works between us, isn’t it?
It’s funny how the middle of the night was the only time you could find to visit me while I was on home detention.
You seem to have found unlimited daylight hours for me now though.
Yes, I learnt a lot about you during my year at home…
Now it’s your turn to learn something about me.
In seventeen years time,
you intend to still be living where you are…
Living how you are.
So, where does that leave us?
What if I want to wake beside you every morning?
And share my world…
Come out in the open
say your name if you’re right
Show your face as you poison
Speak your words in plain sight.
I’ve met all kinds of nasty
You’re all one and the same
I won’t hear what is said
by someone with no name.
Flat Beer.
Discarded pipe.
Forgotten biscuits.
Another cigarette.
Complicated heart.
A past love with no full stop in place.
vs
A present love with no desire to lose.
It is impossible to choose
between my memories
and my now.
You’re out in my girl-cave
quietly tinkering with your bike.
I’m sitting back on my bed
listening to MaryJane’s non-stop chatter
She really does chat a lot..
And Relaxation is in the air.
Tushita’s stirring shit again,
she thinks nobody knows.
The manipulating madam,
is gonna reap more than she sow’s.
Her pretty face and soft sweet voice
is all a clever pose,
if she’s being super nice to you
then you’re the target that she chose.
This time her plans will ricochet,
herself, she will expose.
Pride always comes before a fall
Her stirring reign draws to a close.
It’s the middle of the night
and I just can’t sleep.
Memories keep breaking my heart.
Tears overflowing.
Pain wracking my soul.
No matter what I do,
I can’t stop knowing
that you are gone
forever.
I’m free, I’m free!
Still, you had to turn my world upside down again.
You had to suck the pleasure right out of my freedom.
You left me with no option.
I had to do what was best for me…
I packed a bag, and skipped town.
For the first time in over a year,
I went away.
I got to breathe the sea air.
I got to relax with someone I trust.
I laughed. I drank.
I was merry.
It felt good to get away.
It felt good to get home again.
I feel recharged.
I feel peaceful and energetic.
I need you to let me go now.
We sit together in silence
and my thumbs start to twiddle
I rack my mind for some chat
but your vibe is a riddle.
What lies between us
creating this wall?
Uncomfortable quiet
gives no clue at all.
You surprised me today
with your presence.
It was a nice surprise,
being daytime, and all…
“Just to see me”
No other reason…
Of course not.
I only have four sleeps to go.
My anklet comes off in 96 hours.
What a year it’s been!!
The judge gave me a sentence of time.
Time to reflect.
Time to grieve.
Time to accept.
I haven’t gone crazy being stuck at home.
My mind is in a better place than this time last year.
I still cry everyday.
But I’ve begun to live everyday again too.
He said, she said.
They have lots to say
Commentating my life
In a despicable way.
The facts aren’t important
when spreading a tale
The more drama the better
Juicy telling’s never stale.
My life sounds amazing
Wild antics galore
The grapevine will tell you
what I said, did,
and more.
I sit back and laugh
when I hear what I do.
I’d rather be living
than sit talking of you.
A midnight smoke
Puffing solo, alone
Hot boxing the room
By myself, on my own
Eyes glazing over
Latest Mary-Jane fling
I’m heading outside
For a late at night swing.
It’s always there.
Even when I’m preoccupied with the task at hand,
the grief is never far.
I’ve become used to the weight of it now.
I’ve learnt how to distract myself from it.
I’ve learnt how to live with the agony.
Most of the time…
It’s always there though.
Just when things are ticking along nicely
You stand me up…
Your silent reply speaks loudly to me…
I guess our latest honeymoon period is over
and it’s back to normal we go,
hi ho, hi ho, hi ho.
Row, row, row your own boat
stand on your know-it-all feet.
Stop riding coat tails
and pay your own way
Quit shitting on all who you meet.
You’re big enough to be a dad,
to a baby you don’t even raise
Gods gifts don’t work – you can’t juggle a job
with a full time career in self praise.
No-one is impressed by you
You’re shameful to your blood
Anyone could be a man
If ‘man’ meant unfussy stud.
I like to go swinging
at the drop of a hat,
flying high through the air
I’m a shed acrobat.
Mary-Jane joins me
we blow smoke to the sky
I like to go swinging
Late at night, getting high.
My boyfriend is older than me.
Much older.
It doesn’t seem right to even call him my ‘boyfriend’.
His age of 54 gives him a 20 year head start on me.
No, he isn’t a father figure to me.
No, I’m not a gold digger.
Three years down the track, and we still don’t live together
We probably never will.
I have come to terms with that.
I am four years older than his oldest child
He is four years younger than my Dad
Yet somehow we gel together.
Our age gap doesn’t exist where it counts.
The sun is out
Birds sing their song
Get out of bed
Life must go on.
It’s nighttime here,
I sit up on my own.
Alone in my room,
drinking wine, getting stoned.
Long used to the silence
From half of my bed,
Spending time with myself
and the thoughts in my head.
My eldest daughter was only twelve when I killed her.
It was a cold Saturday morning, and my youngest daughter had just finished playing netball, she was grumpy because her team had lost, and she was arguing with her sister about sitting in the front seat.
“Muuum!” my oldest girl moaned “It’s MY turn!”
I lost my temper “That’s enough you two! I’m sick of the fighting! It’s Bryers turn in the front and that’s that!”
Both girls stopped arguing and jumped into the car and put their seat belts on. We left the netball courts and began the long drive home. I started feeling sorry for growling them, so I stopped at a bakery and brought treats for the drive home. Back on the road again, I smiled at my oldest daughter as I handed her a piece of cake, I then passed my youngest daughter hers in the backseat. I only took my eyes off the road for a split second when I heard the crunch of gravel as our car started veering off the road, I quickly swerved the steering wheel to straighten us up, but I must have swerved too hard, and our car started fish-tailing out of control. It all happened so fast, yet so slowly at the same time. I remember feeling our car spinning across the road, and I remember seeing another car driving towards us. I don’t remember the bang of our car hitting the other car. I don’t remember the first few minutes after the crash.
The first thing I remember is realizing that I was sitting in the back seat, witness’s said I climbed out of my door and into the back seat to check my youngest daughter. Her leg was trapped, and she had a huge hole above her eye, other than that she was conscious and calm. No-one knows if I checked my eldest girl in the passenger seat, and to this day it haunts me that maybe I didn’t…
I remember the police and ambulance arriving, followed by a firetruck to cut my daughters out of our car.
The next half hour is a blur to me.
A police officer came and told me that the rescue helicopter was on its way to take my daughters to hospital, I would go in an ambulance – I was in shock and didn’t fully comprehend how serious their injuries were.
I remember being in the ambulance, when suddenly I felt something break inside of my heart – that’s the best way I can describe it – something died inside of me… I started to panic, “Bryer has died” I said to the ambulance officer in the back with me “She’s died, she’s died” He tried to calm me down, but couldn’t, so in the end he asked the driver to radio the helicopter…
The reply finally came back that no she hadn’t died, but she was in a serious condition. I couldn’t calm down though – I knew what I had felt.
We got to hospital and my girls were already in surgery. I was put through various tests while a nurse picked bits of glass out of me. The whole time I was crying to know what was happening with my children – I knew Bryer had died, but they kept telling me both girls were alive and in surgery. They kept giving me hope.
Hours passed, and my injuries were treated while my girls were in surgery. I had a broken rib and bruised lung and severe bruising on my brain. It took fifteen stitches to close the wound on my chin up.
No-one would tell me what was happening with my children.
Finally I was wheeled into a room, and I saw my ex-husband there, holding my eldest daughters hand
“It’s a farce” he said “She’s already gone”. He was crying and crying, but I was numb, I just looked at her.
She didn’t have a scratch on her beautiful face, It took many months before I was able to understand how she could be gone when I couldn’t see any injuries. I still don’t understand why they gave me hope, even though I already knew that she had died.
The impact of the crash had caused Bryer’s seat belt to perforate her lung, stopping oxygen from getting to her brain. Her brain had died in the helicopter. The doctors fought to save her, but Bryer’s injuries were too severe.
With our consent, the doctor turned the machine that was keeping Bryer’s heart beating off, and her official time of death is 6.11pm.
My youngest daughter received a broken wrist, and eighty stitches put her face back together (two and half years later and the scar is barely noticeable).
I was charged with driving on an expired licence, and sentenced to one 
year home detention.
I am nearly at the end of my sentence now – my official sentence, that is. Everyday I cry for my beloved daughter and wish she could forgive me. Everyday I live, knowing that it should have been me who died, and knowing that I can’t ever forgive myself.
I struggle some days.
My burdens are heavy,
and I struggle.
Some days I just want to be numb.
Who has the right to judge how I cope?
You are so charming when you want to be.
My determination not to let you back into my heart
has gone out the window.
I was kidding myself to even think I could deny you.
I’ve been dreaming about you Baby,
You seem happy and peaceful.
Your hair has grown long, since I last saw you.
You’re full of hugs and smiles towards me.
Does that mean you forgive me?
Is it me that is unable to forgive myself?
Sometimes I really believe that I can feel you near me.
But mostly, the emptiness around me is solid and absolute.
Every day I lose more hope
as the reality sets deeper in my heart.
I know that only memories and boxes now remain, where you once existed.
You yourself, are forever gone.
It takes a lot of courage to stop the cycle of misery.
Admitting how bad it is, and asking for help isn’t an easy thing.
Pride struggles with accepting support and care from friends.
Questioning yourself weakens determination…
“Where things really as bad as they seemed at the time..?”
Yes.
Things really were that bad.
It’s scary how easy it is to just give up, and return to the cycle.
It takes a lot of courage to break away from the cycle of misery.
I’m so proud of the steps you are taking, my friend.
You are not alone.
I dropped a question by surprise
and worry flickered in your eye’s
as you quickly thought up lies
to back up other past denies.
You’re fooled to think I’m none the wise,
that I’d ignore instinctive cries.
The you I loved I now despise,
Dishonest words brought our demise.
Around and around we go, stuck on the same song.
Things coast along nicely for a week or two,
then you back off me, suddenly.
For the next few weeks, your visits are far and few between,
and always well after midnight…
I don’t hear from you at all, outside of odd booty calls.
I begin to feel hurt and angry.
It bothers me to the point of misery,
so I decide it’s time I let go of you.
But as I reach my breaking point,
you turn on your charm…
You have time for me.
I feel attractive to you.
I feel wanted, loved and important.
I let my guard down.
Things coast along nicely for a week or two…
And around we go, stuck on the same song.
Where is the effort you promised?
Where is the regret you expressed?
Where is the love you declared?
I see nothing that encourages me.
I hear empty words being spoken.
I feel bitterness growing in my heart.
Is this your idea of togetherness?
Am I supposed to settle for less than to be happy?
Should we not let go of what is already gone?
It’s actually a good thing when I’m telling you how I feel.
It’s when I go silent that you should worry.
My silence means I can’t be bothered anymore.
You keep saying that you love me,
but I don’t want to hear those words from you…
I want to feel them.
…And so begins a new day.
A day to hold my head high, and thus rescue my pride.
A day to busy my hands, in the hope that my thoughts will busy themselves too.
A day to surround myself with smoke, a coping mechanism.
Fury: A red hot desire to scream your head off while smashing everything that reminds you of the offender into little pieces.
Heartache: Trying so hard not to cry, and being unable to help it.
Denial: Hoping the offender will arrive with a perfectly good explanation that proves their innocence and devotion.
Humiliation: The wish to hide forever, because everybody probably knew all along how gullible you are.
Dignity: Desperately trying to control the above emotions so as not to attract sympathy or I-told-ya-so’s.
Fuck it hurts when suspicions begin proving themselves right.
You say you don’t touch me because you’re lazy.
You aren’t lazy.
I just don’t think I turn you on.
easy to perceive
A car accident this morning brings back memories of loss.
My nephew is ok, though his car is not.
I can’t help but cry and remember my girl.
She wasn’t ok.
I’m so sorry Bryer.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
You’re nasty to me.
well,
mostly you’re kind
I know your heart’s soft, down deep inside
I like hearing you laugh, we share jokes to and fro
then out of the blue, your anger does blow
I feel so small and scared and weak
whatever I say you class as cheek.
I don’t want to leave cos we’ve been through so much
So I’ll patiently wait til love’s back in your touch…
The best kind of friend
is someone you can sit and swing with
spend hours not speaking a word
and then walk away
feeling as though you just had the best conversation
ever.
It’s a new day and I feel calm.
I sit in bed, surrounded by smoke.
My phone beeps with a good morning text from you.
Surely you don’t expect me to reply.
Smoke f
ills my brain
dulling my senses.
My emotions are null and void.
I’m now able to hear my head speak 
without the interruption from my heart.
Our time has come.
Its been long enough.
A full stop is on standby,
waiting only for my nod.
What keeps stopping me?
You scare me when we fight.
I stop knowing who you are.
I’ve learnt to still my smart mouth
But that doesn’t get me far.
I’m wrong to disagree with you
no self defense from me.
How dare I walk out of the room
Disrespect is what you see.
You call me names
You mock my tears
You pretend it’s time to hit
You’re thrice my size and much more strong
You scare me out of shit.
Then off you storm in cold hard rage
I’m sobbing out my eyes.
The silent treatment takes the stage
Til I apologize.
To you I’m low priority
Importance factor nil,
too bad if I get lonely
when you don’t have time to kill.
It’s far too hard to make some time
to show me that you care,
I am a low priority
of that I’m well aware.
A worn out welcome hovers
around the house guest that doesn’t leave.
At ‘goodbye’ time,
the tears begin…
“What have I done wrong?”
‘Leaving time’ doesn’t usually mean you’ve done something wrong,
But seeing as you ask….
A moments peace would have been nice, while you stay here
in my own home.
You talk about nothing.
Then you talk about talking about nothing.
My ears are sore from your nonstop yapping.
You talk too much 
for someone as used to the quiet as I am.
My head is done in,
and it’s time for you to go home.
Save your tears for someone else’s ears.
Things would be different
if just once,
for just one minute,
you would just zip it!
So you met me once.
You spent five minutes in my company.
That was almost ten years ago.
That gives you the right to judge me?
In my time of devastation and heartbreak,
You judged me loudly.
How does it feel to be you?
Sitting high and mighty
on your self acclaimed pedestal… 
Are you content with your life?
Do you like who you are?
I want to wish my pain on you
But I wouldn’t wish this for anyone.
I want to hate you, and kick you, if you ever meet your downfall.
Kick you right in the heart…
The reality is that I wouldn’t do what you did to me
I’m a bigger person than that.
I want to be able to forgive you.
But I’m not actually that big.
I met you once.
I spent five minutes in your company.
Almost ten years ago.
You have no right to judge me.
If you lay down with dogs, you’ll wake up with fleas.
My lifestyle attracts lowlifes
like moths to a flame.
They hang around like bad smells,
waiting for a hit
eyes always looking for an earn.
The horse rides these people
they all have a price.
To associate with them
is to be a sitting duck.
The best form of defense, is offence.
My man sometimes goes away for a night or three for “business”. I’d have to be blind not to notice how every time – without fail – his son, or daughter come and park their butts on my couch for the entire duration of his “trip”. I actually adore his kids, but I can tell the difference between their social visits to me, and their visits that have another explanation behind them…
I’m being babysat.
I know it isn’t because they love my company that much…
I doubt it’s because my safety is at risk (every time!)…
I think it’s his way of making sure I don’t screw around while he’s out of town…
I don’t know what to think about that. Should I be offended that he thinks I would do that to him?
Should I be flattered that he’s worried about losing me?
Should I worry that he has a guilty conscience, which makes him suspicious of mine?
I like to get wasted
I like to keep my walls high
I like to lift my spirits up
I like to smoke my weed and fly.
I knew that it was risky
to give my love to you
I thought my heart was safe
so to the wind my caution flew.
Bit by bit you wore me down
my guard began to rust
against my better judgement
I gave my love and trust.
Now I’ve only got myself to blame
for giving you my heart
loyalty is not your game
and I knew that from the start.
I sit away in another world
wishing you weren’t here.
Awkward silence accompanies you,
and I can’t hear myself think
for the n
oise.
Having a beer with my X-husband.
The father of my daughters.
Reminiscing.
Good times. Bad times.
The knot we tied is far behind us.
The spark is long gone.
Friendship is delicate,
but as our creation beams up at us
with a smile, more precious than gold…
Our efforts double
determined to get along like houses on fire
for our beloved offspring.
Sometimes, doing business together is the only thing you have left.
You can kid yourself otherwise
But the fact remains the same…
You don’t want to spend time together anymore…
The feeling is mutual.
I want to scream at you.
YOU AREN’T THE BOSS OF ME!!
…Somehow I’ve become frightened of you though.
Or maybe I’m just frightened of your displeasure…
When did this happen?
Have I changed?
Where did my fire go?
Time doesn’t exist in this now
Counting down weeks
Completion is in sight
A sentence will end
The sentence has begun
Wishing to turn back days
Willing nights to hurry past
Dreaming of just one more moment
Kick me while I’m down
Strip my soul for all to see
Punish me with silence
Use my love for you against me
Teach me not to misbehave
No voicing when I’m sour
Unspoken rules to me you gave
I let you have the power.
I miss our talks.
Your laughter
Your jokes
Your messy room
Even you tantrums.
I miss you.
So many people live in glass houses
in a glass neighbourhood.
It’s easy to throw stones
when you live a glass town.
Contents of a wooden box,
waiting patiently until love can let go
.
Dreaming of the wind,
A vague recollection of leaves
dancing in time to the sound of musical chimes.
Distant memories of hair blowing wildly
Caresses of a warm breeze
echoing in a half lost memory.
Final remnants of unconditional love
suspended in time, until acceptance settles,
enabling the strength to scatter lost hopes
and dreams.
Paperwork signed.
The end of an era.
Puffing away on a crystal orb,
Searching for the elusive high…
Feet that won’t leave the ground,
Accepting frustration, no sting in sight
I turn away from the bowl….
Mary-Jane watches my desperate dance,
She smiles, and takes my hand.
We twirl together, in time to the music playing in my head,
tapping our toes to the tune.
Watching the hours wave, on their way pass…
Why do you keep ringing and visiting me?
Me, who is chopped liver in your life…
I’m still the same person that you said you’re sick of.
I’m still the same me that you can’t be bothered touching.
I haven’t changed.
Why are you being so nice to me?
I backed off and accepted the end – like you wanted me to.
I left you alone and got on with my life.
So why are you still ringing and visiting me?
You can be very charming when you want to be.
I haven’t seen your charm for a long time…
I can feel myself wanting to relax and trust you again.
It’s very tempting…
But I’m still the same me, you know…
Wasted Times. 
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