you have tried
a wordy game
that leaves me
sinking, vomit on my lips
you are fighting
in a way i understand
in a way
i can not release to you.

---------------------------------
this poem just ruined me like writing hasn't for a long time...
Never Again

Never again will I weep
And wring my hands
And beat my head against the wall
Because
Me nolentem fata trahunt
But
When I have had enough
I will arise
And go unto my Father
And I will say to Him:
Father, I have had enough.

Stevie Smith

you've taken my eyes as truth
eyes that play to be the ocean
that pool in tears
to a muddied puddle.
a sweet child
like you might jump to,
your ankles browned in a leap.

we lay
in some french fim
our bodies snaked
to each other
your skin
that could be mine
tearing in to me///////////////////////////////////incomplete...and horrendous. haha.

i am no where near a good enough writer to describe how beautiful *not a strong enough word* this all is.

something very strange is happening that makes me dizzy and skip rather than walk and when i am still i take very long breaths as if to savour every beautiful part of being alive. i am happy i am happy/i am very fast and loud and if this all drops soon i think i will destroy myself perfectly but right now/i am happy.

he is unlike anyone i could have dreamed for myself.

I admit defeat. I cower at your admission- your heads in a different place - which means YOU DON'T LOVE ME. I could love you forever I think, because I always thought we would be together, when it was right for us. and WE'RE NOT RIGHT. or I'm not. you're in a different place which means THERE'S NO PLACE FOR ME, you wouldn't even fight for me, try for me. I admit defeat and I hate you a million times over because how can I be the best friend I am meant to be to you when my hearts all over the fucking ground in clots of OUR LOST CHILD (and fuck you for never caring that WE had a miscarriage not just me) MY LOST SEXUALITY (i feel like i'm starting over i dont know if im gay or if it was just you and i dont want to deal with that and if i am gay/or not/than everything will now be seen as just a phase) and maybe just fucking maybe OUR LOST FRIENDSHIP.

i love you anyway.

andrew...

you looked so beautiful
untouched
my body wrapped around yours
hoping i could stay
nestled over your right shoulder

with you.

My dear friend,
You take me.
You bring me to asylum
and sew at my edges
with carefully planned words
and a blindfold you carry,
next to your handkerchief.
Used for curving my insight,
a sweet little smile to masquerade in
for a while.


As long as this will hold.


(leave me so I can hate you and forgive you and never decide what is the right choice to make or love me COMPLETE so I can feel there is something more than words between us)

i will listen
between your stutter and pause
i will find reason and i will find
you telling me you love me-
sweeter a tune
than the nightmares
where you cackle towards my candor
i will find myself believing
you could love this.

---------------------------------------

maybe i can convince myself we will be ok.

you don't love me that's why you ignore my messages mixed or otherwise that's why you wont miss when we're gone when this is over you will know you could have had me you had me eating out of your hand leading my head in to stories one of us is making this up or harder the higher we climb i forget how we got here i remember your green tshirt that i might have seen in a photograph and molded you to fill i think this is it. this is all wrong.


------------
i like the fuzzy comfort of the what is the best idea when the best idea is not sleep and a banana to help a chemical inbalance the best idea is dark and words i can only say in my head followed by actions- maybe words i wont think of after sleep. and a banana.

slug of my insides,
my future
slid out of me
on a bed of cotton.
and i know now, loss
and what it truly means to be a woman.
------------------------------------------------

andrew says IT WAS NOT CONFIRMED. the death of a child he never would acknowledge.

i am not here and it HURTS.
every day is a struggle. the funniest part now though, is it's too much of a fucking effort to even say it to anyway.

i am somewhere else.

my writing drought....

i had a dream
you asked for three of my poems,
the ones i once offered
as a seat on a crowded train carriage or
spare change for the methodone at a fitzroy chemist,
i promise
i'll show you all
when i find them.

do you need a footnote to my reason?

andrew and kerith take two. (1)

(1a) no more collecting boys to keep busy though i revel in the experiences i give myself. andrew said i should write them down so i can create this book i say i'll make, but i can't quite bring myself to.
you never know what people might read in to it.

(1b) does he know that i am more likely to leave him for a woman because i still cant handle the idea that i would be with a man for my life? that is not who i am. that is not who i want to be.


people have been asking me a lot lately- although i suppose they are normal, every day questions -'how are you' 'are you okay' and i take my time to think of the answer and i say 'yes i am okay. i am. i actually am today.' which means tonight i might not me, or yesterday i was This close, or tomorrow i will have to wake up and see how i am then. and then i shake a little and my heart goes all tight and i think some more.

piled around my feet
in waste
thigh high in
my choose my own adventure

losing.the.plot
is easy
if i don't pay too much
attention to you.r hands around
my neck,
the way i always wanted.

jade and i fought the way i always have and we never did while we were together and i couldnt help but think, there's your passion kerith. as i was vomiting on her bed in to my hair extensions from being strangled and trying to work out why the hell i punched her in the middle of a club and why i went to her house and why i kissed her as she let me in and why i do this to people poison their minds with violence and til death we part.

how the hell? pan left...

what have you done with your life in five years? i used to measure my life in events that i could map and measure the change through now everything's vague and blurred together with common threads and time is confusing and i feel like i have forgotten a lot of my life. and i feel like there are some things that wont let me forget who i am. what have i done?

drugs, sex, lovelust, betrayal, drugs, sex, betrayal, love, obsession, abuse, isolation, violence, drugs, betrayal, love, isolation, drugs, sex, assault, betrayal, violence, drugs, love, clean, assault, betrayal, sex, lust, and after yesterday-drugs.

but i was getting myself back together. i was pretty sure. a wonderful girfriend, STABLE, caring, perfect, a great house, family, acting, theatre, friends. had it been a few weeks ago i wouldve been so proud to say who i was and where i have been. as it was, i showed up cracked off my head.
more or less eight months with out that feeling, eight months of clarity and the only way i felt that i could face the grown up world was by facing it through smoke. and now i have nothing. i have to start again. i have accomplished NOTHING and all i wanna do is have another fucking pipe and i just might and i just might screw the big grown up plan where I get better and get over this disease/obsession/love/hate that divides me and scares me.
and here i am again. the same place i was last year. aching for it. with one foul swoop i am back in this place.

you look so pretty
in your skin
if you'd only wear it comfortably
let me wash
over you
and maybe
i will let you in.

i told you we would marry next september which would be nice if the sun was out and the bees didnt sting and die and rot and lie and i need you to know i think i could love you properly if i understood myself. you jade are perfect and so far away from me.

i want to love you in that crazy way i knew i could if it didnt make me want to throw up and drown in my silence because i dont know how to connect any more only run away and i cant rely on myself any more than you can.

i cant take much more failure.
i cant take your kisses if i dont return them properly.
but i want to.

i want to.

all suited up
she saw me real as i get
i saw her
mine,
our proud eyes echoing
the other's gaze.
-------------------------
i wish she would see herself as i do.

my princess jade :)

i wish i would show her how i see myself.

------------------------

rent is painful, wonderful, draining. i am too self involved to just skate through it- i can feel every tiring moment stabbing me in the stomach. maybe i am crying for myself.

and i keep thinking, i'll just buy a point or two for the after party. no one will know. i deserve it. after screaming for it, crying for it for a week non stop, i deserve some numb.

but i won't. if not for my sake, then for hers.

my favourite toy would smash against a brick wall and splinter my cells. hello one, taking each day as my first, treating kisses as my last. it could take a while to get used to this, but i take what i can get which is much more than i had before.

living with living with living with living with living with not dying from disease...
im about to be in a production of rent.
i have a family friend who has lived with this for years. things are not the same. they are just terrifying.

some secrets to be swallowed;
they seep through
your veins like vines
that weed to a
strangle hold tight
around your delicate throat,
entwined with your finespun hands
holding to your silence
while i reach mine in a soft echo
to hold-
when you're ready.

in the future

we'll be wading through
landscapes of landfills
wondering what's become of
our home among the gum trees
and all the children's
plasma screen tvs and
wii willy winkys
will be a rotten mess around
our ankles, ash creeping
up and under
our tapping finger nails
trying to turn wine
to water.

my non-love
i want you to hold me
with out touch.

there's a full blown rain storm
matting down my hair
in drips like spit
and thoughts,
there i sit.
crouched over
in her shower
with the handles i can't turn
finding i love
her bathroom,
her towel,
her touch.

a beautiful woman wraps her arms tight around me and through me in licks and twist to bleed if we can help it. she over-indulges my vanity, my nakedness wet and crying is met with praise and compliments and comfort food of mashed potatoes with the skins left on.