A petite mess of style and substance. A Melbourne writer. A controversial bitch daring you to see our world differently.

Collision

colliding with me
Iike a kaleidoscope
of memories i see
only when my eyes
are closed
you hurt

thoughts invading
the purest parts of me
like wounded souls
desperate for a place
to call home
you’re there

here and nowhere
all at once
wandering through days
like a woman lost
dreaming of the same girl
over and over
as if sleep might change
a thing for her
you wake

death living through
a migraine
weeks from being cured
grief falling into pieces
like glass intact
shattered to its frame
detaching itself
from what it knows
not yet broke
you grimace

sharing secrets
already heard
like a Chinese whisper
muting itself on laughter
moments away
from embarrassing
another
a friend called love
or something similar
you play

chancing upon
numbers drawn
from the hand
of a woman dressed
in an outfit
fitting to see
unfitting in actuality
like sunflower seeds
altering life for winter time
you watch

poetry writing
what it never
wanted written
like rhythm
making no sense
on purpose
misinterpreting
its meaning
just to see
what you saw
when you felt it

you hurt me.

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