2

Displaced

There are days when all I crave is you
The smell of coconut oil, burned taro leaves and sweat in the air
I ache to taste your skin
To let my fingers taste the edges and crevices of your rugged exterior
Make love to me in our foreign language
Whisper your beautifully confusing words
My ears ache for the sounds of the dips and moans of your tongue
Let me dip my toes in the heat of your soul
My belly and spirit bloated with the seed of my island
My arms crave you… your culture
Lie with me until my confusion is gone
Until my heart is at one with home.

3

11.53pm

It’s hard to love yourself when the world keeps telling you, you ain’t enough. Not enough make-up. Too much make-up. Too fat. Too skinny. You smile too much. You never smile.
You’re a good girl but you’re not good enough.
You wonder why you are never happy.
Some days you feel like you’re wearing your body. Some days your body is a prison you don’t want to leave.
Your refuge becomes your prison.
Most days you have to remind yourself to be strong. That it might be okay. That this is just one of those days where the never-ending sadness sees no end. Yet… hopefully.
It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be angry. It’s natural to feel this way. And it will be okay, really. But no one told you that and now you feel bad.
You built a wall around your heart but you forgot the ceiling and it’s monsoon season out here.
What were you trying to protect my beautiful and fragile creature?
Because when it comes- the pain, the lies, the disregard for your feelings, the loneliness- you feign apathy but your heart has been plastered to death.
Your human is showing.

0

im so tired/when life gives you lots of lemons but it’s too much/when life is good but you are trash

i pull myself apart every couple of weeks
if im lucky it will take a couple of months
it is not beautiful or romantic
i cant wish it away with a hot chocolate and my favourite tv show
although that would be a nice change
rather
it is dirty and disgusting
and gut wrenching
it’s the messy room with old cups of coffee
and sinks piled with last weeks dinner plates
it’s the pizza from two nights before for breakfast
it’s the long to do lists that are left untouched on the fridge
and the lying in your bed with unwashed sheets
i pull at each string of my being
not slowly and carefully either
it is quick and devastating
and im left in awe
no
i am left in denial and pain and wishing i was never born-isms
with my sanity laying about me
scattered on the ground like litter after a concert
wondering how someone as amazingly blessed as me
became this way
anxious and sad and sorry and apathetic
i feel like a wound bleeding every day
and healing every night
only to realise the next morning
i had scratched it over and over while in my dreams
i am tired
i am a loss
and i feel less than human
but at the same time relentlessly and scathingly human
i want to live
All the time
but i am always the pause button
always the ‘what if…’
always the ‘unfortunately…’
always the ‘where are they now…’
always the lonely leaf in the storm of life
and im tired
always so fucking tired
i want to feel alive
but nothing feels more alive than letting the storm take you
i am free
and mostly i am alone
and i have no control
and im just so fucking tired of having no control
im so fucking tired of understading my life in metaphors
i just want to be
and i just want to breathe while i can
and just stop thinking about where i am
and where i could have been
and stop saying and all the damn time
and just live in this catastrophic moment of life that i have
and stop believing the rains and the suns and the winds and the people can change me more than they can move me
and just accept that i am here now
that i am free
as long as i can believe that i am

0

not sure if im okay but im okay with that. i think.

there is a sort of beauty in chaos
an art to the sadness
a rhythm to the way my chest thumps and my heart rate increases double the rate in half the time
sometimes i find it hard to breathe
and the doctor says my chest pain is from anxiety
and now im afraid that i will die of a heart attack
and i hear that people who are afraid of dying of a heart attack
usually do
and now i am a bundle of nerves
pretending that i am okay
master of okayness
i try to ignore the impending feelings of doom and go to my happy place
i must admit i am not coping well
and i will go to church because it makes me feel more alive
than drinking alcohol or speeding down a lonely highway
i want to feel alive so much
i sometimes forget to live and my back aches and i try and sit in my backyard a bit more
especially early in the morning when the frost and the crispness is resting
and there is no noise and no one is awake and no one can touch me and only god can hear my rapid breathing
life has a way of making everything heavy
everything feels so heavy and intense and i know it cant always be like this
cause sometimes shit too heavy
but i will cope
and i will deal
cause what else is there to do?
im not ready to die yet

0

my hope for you

I only want the best for you
And i hope you will always work hard for what you believe you deserve
I hope that when doubt sneaks in through the window
That you will know all you have to do is chase it out the door with a bat and a teaspoon of hush
I hope you know that the only opinion that matters
Is yours
I hope that when you look in the mirror
That you remember all you see is a reflection of what you perceive
I hope you remember that sometimes your brain is your worst enemy
That sometimes it sees things that are not true
That it twists what you hear
And sometimes feels like something sinister
That at times the only enemy is yourself
And i hope that you are not afraid of that
I hope that youll be able to summon the strength of your shoulders
The courage of your dimples
The cunning of your eyelashes
The stealth of your feet
And the wit of your wrists
And i hope you know that you are always more than what people say you are
I hope you can enjoy the rain
Just as much as the sun
Beccause they work together for perfect harmony
I hope you will be able to appreciate that 5 minutes of quiet
Even if it is just before the alarm clock rings
Especially before that alarm clock rings
Cause some days that will be your only moment of peace
And i hope that life doesnt wipe that smile from your face
And i know it’s hard to believe it’s the same life that put it there
So i hope you have courage when you need it
And the strength to leave what needs to be left
And the wisdom to stay away
And the tolerance for things that cannot change
And i hope you remember that most things can change
I hope you know that you have a light in you
Even if it is only a flicker
Your flicker may be someone else’s lighthouse

2

distraction therapy

the brain does this amazing thing
where it keeps reminding you of your pain
even when youre done
even when it’s long over
even when youre laughing with friends
or trying to finish an assignment
i tell myself to get over you
but then i remember the way you would
lift me a little off the floor when you hugged me
i tell my friends i am happy now
even though i still see your face when youre not there
and i still remember your number
even though i try hard to forget
have you ever tried telling your brain NOT to do something?
it’s like the rebellious teenager that never learns
anyways i learned the other day about distraction therapy
it’s a pain management technique
so what i do is this
i jog up a hill
and at the same time i listen to my favourite comedian
and as im basically dying
i cant stop thinking about how loud my breathing is
how much my chest hurts
and how fucking funny this guy is even tho i cant laugh
and even though it’s not the most ideal situation ever
i know ill be alright

0

social anxiety part two

your silence is irritating
i wish you would speak
open your lungs
expand your chest
and just speak
your silence is deafening
your silence is loud
it is awkward
it is apprehensive
you think you shrink into the corner of the room
but your silence only highlights your presence
even your eyes are loud with questions
your fingers twitch with exhaustion and suggestions
but your mouth
it remains still
and your mouth remains quiet
your throat is a graveyard of words
that even you leave flowers for

0

note to self

i imagine you in her arms and i have a tidal wave as a stomach
i just have to remember
that i knew happiness before i met you
and i will know happiness now that i have left you
it’s just
some nights i find myself missing you
and i fill this empty space in my bed
with thoughts of you
and the memory of your voice
like rock against gravel
seems to shatter the silence of the night
but then the ache subsides
and maybe it was because opposites attract
but in the end we werent so different after all
in the end
we bled each other dry
trying to believe what we had was love

0

social anxiety

do you know what it feels like
when your words do not come?
when all you want to do is not be exactly where you are
how sometimes it takes hours or days
just to prepare yourself to speak

there have been times i have felt like retching
my stomach collapses and all i want to do is run away
find darkness
find solitude
away from prying eyes
away from the noise
away from the bodies
how can i live when i keep finding myself in bathroom stalls
trying to regain my composure behind locked doors
when even saying hello requires deep thought and contemplation?

0

a poem for that guy in my class whose laugh is magic. (seriously guys, it’s the best). (this is not creepy at all).

i wrote a poem about the way your laugh makes the world seem lighter
seem less daunting and more liveable
your laughter makes me forget that sometimes I am sad
your laughter makes me forget I have not laughed in a long while
your laughter reverberates
it trembles
it leaves me trembling
i think of all the times I forgot how the wind felt in my hair
all those times I woke up anxious and angry
all the times I would rather lay in bed and feel nothing
the times i forgot what it was to be alive
your laugh reminds me i am alive
that life is more than things
that times are hard but living without laughter is harder
your laughter is sun beams
sitting by a warm fire on a cold night
your laughter is a baby squeezing my finger
the smell of a loved one who has finally returned home
your laughter is joy
it is wonder
it is beauty
it is life.