Tabula RasaThe most honest I can ever be with you
is when you're just a blank screen
an empty page
indifferent to this truth I spill over you
because this unmarked canvas doesn't stare into me
in quite the same way your eyes do
and if I stare back at it long enough I can just about beat it
and cover it with these words I swear mean something.
Man Sold SeparatelyIt was one of those houses dropped on the corner of the street, squeezed so tightly by the ones on either side that it was hardly noticeable. It was one of those houses where the hot water never ran out in the winter and the air conditioner never broke down in the summer. All of the neighbours in the similarly shaped houses, although never perfectly identical, shared gossip and brought over casseroles and generally pretended to like each other until the door closed and the lock clicked and their sincere thoughts on the daughter’s new husband came to light. It was a neighbourhood with the level of superficiality one could usually find in the suburbs.
I was drawn right in.
There was something about the idea of having a comfortable little life, a quiet life where I would often be alone and always lonely, that somehow appealed to me. It’s easy to be lonely; all you do is turn on the TV or open a good book and it goes away. I could never sit around feeling sorry for myself in a
Backwards I'm the girl that danced
And now look at me.
A year, three thousand miles,
And I'm still not free.
I'm the girl that imagined,
But nothing came true.
And now there isn't much left
Except a poem or two.