Pandora’s Box.

Pandora’s Box.

The room

was exactly how I’d imagined

the soft seats

table in between

water, in case your throat closed up

 

(or the words got caught, more like)

 

I was nervous

although, nervous felt too small a word

for the gut-wrenching feeling

that my whole world was about to

spill out

pour out

until

it was so bold

so obnoxiously bright

it couldn’t be ignored

 

not anymore, anyway

 

the clock was reflected in the mirror

 

the words didn’t stop

 

and the minutes kept ticking

 

as the sharp hand

worked its way around the loop

my own shackles loosened

just a glimpse, but a glimpse all the same

 

I could taste the soap in my mouth

bitter and stomach churning

as I screamed

until my throat was raw

 

I could see your face

twisted in anger

disgust

hatred

 

I could feel the burn my nails had left

my skinny arms

red with the dirty proof

 

young

confused

alone

 

and now that box is open

the demons of the past and their smug faces

tapping me on the shoulder

 

what have I let out?

what have I set free?

 

can I trust in the journey?

 

will I have the power

to not lock the box

but greet the darkness

bid it farewell

until only hope remains?

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This Life.

This Life.

This life I am building

its four walls

and its pristine furniture

the puzzle pieces

one by one

picture perfect.

 

This life I slide through

so close

so very far

from the person I became

those endless months ago.

 

2017 brought with it

an eerie silence

no fireworks

to kick off

this year of uncertainty.

 

No Sydney Harbour Bridge, that’s for sure.

 

And yet

maybe

this life

holds something new entirely?

 

Living

learning

achieving

becoming.

 

Maybe

this year

will be my challenge

that final mountain to climb

the twists and turns

the steps

each bigger than the last

until

until

 

The view.

 

The view from the top.

 

The view

that makes you realise

your life

this life

is your story

and the pen

is already in your hands

ready to write.

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah.

When i think of that island

i think of that night

i think of us

four ink splats

dancing on the sandy canvas

spreading out in our own

hypnotic state

 

we weren’t allowed in the water

not that we listened

the fear of sharks couldn’t stop us

shedding our clothes

our inhibitions

for one small moment

resting

in its deep blue palm

 

everyone else was at

the camp

better known as

the home we’ll never forget

with its long wooden tables

and burnt out fire

not forgetting the toilets

you didn’t dare enter

 

it was a funny group

i guess

looking back, i mean

 

we two, forever connected

and the boys

we’d barely shared a word

 

but there we were

 

the guitar was our soundtrack

(there was always a guitar)

lit up by

the firefly

sitting on the end

of your cigarette

 

(sure, cigarette she said)

 

we sung

from the depths of our heart

so full

that the words

spilled over the edge

tip toeing away

right over to the

shore

 

and i’ve seen your flag on the marble arch

and love is not a victory march

it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

 

and then the second

we all looked up

in unison

it seemed

ready for our own private show

 

because the stars

had come out to play

the milky way

easing in and out

of the sky’s gentle clutch

her curves

her lines

her beauty

pure

ours for the taking

 

her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

 

the clearness

the overwhelming sense

that we were witnessing

something out of this world

a glimpse

ours for eternity

 

and every breath we drew was hallelujah

Spring.

Spring.

There’s something about Spring.

Something about the crispness in the air that seems to dust away the cobwebs.

The brightness of the daffodils that leave a lick of paint against the harsh black walls.

As March opens its doors we start to bid our goodbyes to the season passed. Turn away from that period of dark mornings and even darker nights.

Say hello to the promise of warmth. The promise of new life.

The change, oh so needed. The fresh start, oh so necessary.

There’s something about Spring. And it’s here to take me away.

Sailing through the Whitsundays.

Sailing through the Whitsundays.

We wanted the world

every last inch of it

wanted the azure waters

with its curls of

pure white sand

and the sunrises and sunsets

that seemed to fall off

the edge of the earth

 

we wanted our own

secret paradise

swept away from reality

every moment

an adventure

a gift waiting to unfold

 

for three days

we sailed through

our personal nirvana

followed turtles

as they left their mark

before disappearing into

the unknown

 

we watched dolphins

at night

as they danced through

the gentlest of waves

 

ran across

quiet islands

climbed to their

intoxicating hideaways

before surrendering

to the ocean

letting ourselves slip

into its delicious embrace

 

and yet

for every sight

every taste of the sea

and every touch of the sun

there is one moment

that truly carved its tale

across my heart

 

the moment

I took your hand

and together

we fell into the most

enchanting of skies

 

hypnotised

by the blanket of black

painted with

the milky way

 

silently engulfed

 

silently in love

 

silently at one

 

and as the stars fell

like raindrops

leaving patterns across

our skin

we knew we would never forget

the moment

the world was ours.

Trekking in Sapa.

Trekking in Sapa.

Standing on the brink

the waterfall tumbling, pouring, charging below

the world

slipping off the edge

drowning in the sound

a certainty.

 

and in everything I have ever seen

all the oceans

and their pockets of jewels

the white sand

and the lilac sunsets

that was the moment I knew

I had found true beauty.

 

the kind that slowly and then

all at once

beckons the air

out of your lungs.

 

you know

that feeling

right before the rollercoaster drops.

 

you made me a crown

out of flowers and leaves

the flowers

that delicate pink.

 

what I’d do to be wearing that crown now.

 

the mountains

still rose above us

they demanded their place

kept us feeling small.

 

the glorious green paths

twisting like snakes across

that epic landscape.

your baby strapped tightly to my back.

I can still feel the red velvet.

 

below the water slipped seamlessly into

the stream. a steam I’d swim across

soon enough

stripped down whilst you pounced

from rock to rock.

 

oh how you made it look so effortless.

 

how can anything compare?

what can match a heart

so full

when invincible was

too quiet a word?

 

I wanted to let it all out

scream until all the love had

burst out of my lungs

finally giving me that space

to once again

breathe.

 

inhale

exhale

 

let it all wash over you

now let it wash away.