The pages turning
one by one
as if by the wind
I watch the words
I see the form of each letter
but nothing makes any sense
like this plain English
was a language I couldn’t read.

I look at the pages
trying to understand
but you’re the only thing
on my mind
weaving a story
with memories
written on pages
turning through my mind.

Raindrops
teardrops
watermarks on my t-shirt.
Exhausted
but dreams
tell me my life’s not spent.
Walking
weary
bare feet on the pavement.
A path
unknown
following maps in my mind.
Vivid
striking
images dance behind my eyes
these images are my reality.

Her mind is a winding village
of quizzical complexities
she gets lost in streets and laneways
that lead her down confusing paths.

Her young mind is moulded
by the examples lived around her
which have dragged her
in opposing directions.

She walks the wrong paths
her choices a danger to herself
but she’s living a life
already mapped out once.

The example she follows
is one close to her heart
but one destined to cause her
a future of problems.

She only does what she saw
her mother do before her
and this could be her downfall.

Someday you might realise
the emptiness that lies here
beneath the pretty patterns
that distract the mind;
someday you might realise
the emptiness runs deep
like a paper bag filled with air;
like a waxwork figure
nobody underneath the surface.

After hours alone
the mind does wander
often to unexpected places
and every now and then
the body is tempted to follow.
When one is alone
all those things
usually ridiculous
somehow seem simply natural
and fascinate
capturing the imagination.
Decisions made in isolation
should not be held too strictly
for the risk of doing something
you will regret.

Picture frames filled with faceless figures
memories that slipped through the cracks of this mind
and got lost on pavements long since forgotten.

A life lived, a lifetime ago
a closet filled with unrecognisable clothes
unseeing eyes glazed over.

It seems time wore away
leaving the present to vanish in an instant
and history a hazy image.

You looked at me with eyes
that didn’t seem like yours
they belonged to someone else.
I once knew you so well
but you turned cold
And a darkness inside you was growing.

It broke my heart to see
the war you were fighting in your head
I felt so helpless
watching as you tore your life to shreads.
Now you’re gone
I don’t know where
someone else stands in your place.
I miss the you you really are
not this stranger who occupies your space.

She downed the last of her beer
and screwed up her face
as the bitter liquid moved through her mouth
and down her throat.
She never really enjoyed the drink
it didn’t matter what it was
her poison was whatever
would get her drunk, fast and cheap.
She craved the feeling of freedom
freedom from her mind
freedom from her thoughts.

I was cleaning out the cobwebs
in the corners of my mind
I got amongst the dirt
opened up my mind’s blinds.
I found stashed in boxes
the names of those I’ve loved
hidden away in darkness
covered up with dust.
I started reading through these names
of people practically forgotten
and as the list seemed to grow
so did grow a question.
I’ve stored here for the future
these people I have cared about
where, then, should I find those
who I simply wanted to live without?
I started to search my mind
for another pile of names
and finally came across
A box entitled ’hate’.
This box sat quite alone
and I opened it tentatively
expecting a long list of names
all tightly packed in.
To my absolute surprise
I found not an abundance
not even two or three
but a single note, hand written.
I picked this paper up
with utter curiosity
hoping this note will explain
why this box lies empty.

‘Here’s a note to myself
in the future, sometime, some place.
Why are you looking in this box
for people who don’t deserve this space?
You’ve kept the names of those you love
so neatly stored away
but people who treated you badly
their names were thrown away.
Why open up these ancient wounds
to let in fresh, new hurt?
Why take yourself back to these punches
that were unfairly delt?
If they hurt you enough in the past
to end up filed here
you have no reason or benefit
to have them in your future.
Let go of the painful past
forgive and walk away
store up only those you’ve loved
to remember again someday.’ 

If you hear me
fighting with myself
don’t be alarmed.
I try to make up my mind
but my heart
always wants a say
and the two can never agree.
Strong willed
in opposing directions
tearing me in two.