when i live

last night I was sleeping in paddocks, watching stars collide and praying until my heart got sore.
You know how when you cry enough your eyes ache? And when you shake enough your mucles ache? Well when your praying and crying and shaking your heart aches.
But thats okay.

Because I'm real. Baby I am real.

I've learnt three new things about myself.

I cannot eat sleep or make sense when I'm stressed.
I run, when things get to much I stop going to school for five days and hide in my room with the lights out the curtains pulled shut and tears in my heart.
I'm a control freak. Not the oh noes that thing must go there kind, but the, dammit if im going down im going down in style kind.
Because I think if I can't dictate what happens in my life, it freaks me out.
Hello basis of all my problems.

If I've got a strangle hold on control then I'm hardly giving all for god.

I'm far from fixed but I'm working on it.

And it would seem I'm working myself back into Bee.
And if you know me well you know what that means. But basically i”m beginning to think it's me when I'm making things work and moving forward and taking steps. And at any other times i may be on the right path but standing there.

So welcome back bee, and say hello to summer. Baby it's my time of year. The time when I'm stronger and brighter and once again baby. I am REAL.




........
i.

i am sleeping in the middle of wheat fields.

i am curled into the soil with the sun filtering through my eyelids and the warmth of the earth pressed against my hip. i am holding my stomach with gentle hands, lips parted to breathe in the sweet air. i am dreaming of feathers running down my spine and of blowing bubbles while running down sloping hills. i am dreaming of kisses at dawn and hands cradling my cheek and laughing over coffee with my best friend.

and when i wake, i am tranquil and serene and peaceful.
and when i wake, i am alive.

ii.

i am swimming in the belly of the ocean.

i am twisting in the clever hands of her currents, my hair roping around my waist and seashells trailing up my thigh. i am swallowing saltwater and rinsing out my lungs, letting my sins filter through my skin and disperse into the curling water. i am breathing through gills around my throat and letting my fingers paint symphonies in the seaweed. i am dancing with starbright scales and forgetting the weight of air.

and when i climb onto the shore, i am light-hearted and joyful and forgiven.
and when i climb onto the shore, i am alive.

iii.

i am running down a moonlit dirt road.

i am drowning in the echo of my bare feet muffled against the ground, the echo of my pulse beating in the air around me. i am shedding my skin as i go, leaving it behind so i can breathe with a newness that is whole and aware and so beautifully complete. i am pitching myself into a wild yonder, smiling until my cheeks hurt, my hair streaming like a proud banner behind me as i go. i am alone but i am not lonely at all.

and when i come to a stop, i am out of breath and out of hate and out of doubts.
and when i come to a stop, i am alive.

how long will you be gone for,,

........
There's distance in the air, static between me and the world & that bird? Well I'm sorry but it's dead.

Dawn still brings frost like your eyes, the air's still bitter and cold with bite as strong as any of your words.. and summer seems so very reluctant to break this rudely lingering winter..
There was strong winds last night. Slanted rain wrought with tumbling leaves. And when I woke the dandelions had lost their heads.. one again I was one of them,, just a thin stem with all my hopes and dreams fuzzed around me, ready to blow away at someone's careless mercy.

My minds playing tricks on me, no that wasn't a sliding door, there's no car in my driveway and the lullaby in the back of my thoughts, is most definitely not your voice in my kitchen. Why am I on edge?
i am breathing for the urge to tell you something beautiful
but i, the ever-scared lion,
shudder in my sheets..

sunday. Oh god I what I would do for a neverending week of sundays.
Of hope and passion and heartfelt worship. Of renewal. Revival and revolutions.
Of breif reprise before sailing back into six days for them.
I shouldn't complain, I adore my life, I wake up with dreams of flying.
I soar into my days with beautiful people and moments. With small hours in the evening to be silent with you.
But these days I'm biting my cheeks to keep from talking, my teeth are on edge and my hands are shaking.
I feel the need to escape more and more often and find myself resenting when she tears me back to the here and now, searching for reasurance. No nothings wrong. Nothing I could speak or express.
Nothing I could put a name to.
But deep dark and secret.. something is very very wrong.
And I go to sleep everynight knowing full well I am yet to sprout a set of wings..

I'm dehydrated with water in my lungs.
The moon is waxing and waning, with no sign of an end..
to these bitter cold and empty nights..

an appeal for sleep and reason

no other way - jack johnson

........
There's still sand in my hair and driftwood in my pockets of my favourite shorts.
And footprints still wind silent paths across our beach, do you ever wonder if you follow them will their owner be waiting at the end? I can never find out because one persons tracks are swollowed by the tide or trampled by others. Do you think somehow we can feel it when our trails are cut off? Or are those emotions left forgotten, far behind on sunshine days in past summertimes..

-

We are healing, there's no denying that. But sunshine I think sometimes our healing is bruising and scar tissue, and I don't have the right words to cut that out before our hearts stop. When we go away, I want to send you postcards every wednesday [both our birthdays are on one] that tell you all the things I should have said, and they'll all have a picture of waterfalls or beaches on them [we were always happiest there.] But I don't know if I will ever send them, or if they'll ever carry a return address, maybe they'll lay in a shoebox of photographs I can't look at for heartbreak. Full to the brim of collected shells and god moments. but I like to think that I wont need them, because i'll be able to tell you myself.

when your mind is a mess, so is mine, I can't sleep. 'cause it hurts when I think.
My thoughts aren't at peace with the plans that we make.
Chances we take, they're, not yours and not mine.there's waves that can break,
All the words that we say, & the words that we mean, words can fall short. can't see the unseen,
'Cause the world is awake. for somebody's sake now, please close, your eyes.
Please get some sleep.

-

Hello, you are two years gone. i still look for your face wherever i go, mentally bruising myself and pinching my nerves for it.
i shouldn't say i do- then again, i shouldn't still be feeling. I shouldn't still be here – then again. You should have left two years ago. This never would have happened. Better or worse?
I would have been without. So very much. Two years of insanity and confusion, and caring.
I wouldn't be where I am, who I am, alive and real and living and loving and being everything I can and can't be. I ask myself sometimes, if I'm happy this way, and sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I really get sad and hurt and slip. The difference is I can stand and brush the dust off and take it in stride. I can smile and be honest-to-god happy. I didn't get here by myself. But I did. And don't ask me to explain, because I will.
you were so real to me,
i will never forget that
but at times i wish i would.
[& i cry now because it
feels like your already gone]

Well too much silence can be misleading
You're drifting I can hear it in the way that your breathing
We don't really need to find reason
Cause out the same door that it came well its leaving its leaving
Leaving like a day that's done and part of a season
Resolve is just a concept that's as dead as the leaves
But at least we can sleep, its all that we need
When we wake we will find
Our minds will be free to go to sleep

-

i wish more than i love you - that i could save you.
i know i can, please just let me.

you are beautiful, please don't tell me you're not. your heart may be broken, but it is in a thousand of the right places. i need you to pause your breath and tune to my frequency. because i’m throwing my heart on the airwaves and i need you to be alive to hear it. i need you to follow my words even when they’re stumbling, tripping, falling on their face. Because I know you think you don't fit.. but baby we love you.. doesn't that matter more? I want to wrap you in words, give you everything I know, then hold you and tell you no one matters. And kiss your cheeks so you smile and don't cry.
I think I might need you, more then you know.
Take comfort in that.

And know that if I knew
All of the answers I would
Not hold them from you'd
Know all the things that i'd know

imsorry. im just hurt cos .yourneverthere.

Sunshine you have thunder in your eyes and

lighting in your veins.



Your words taste like blood in the back of my throat, bitter metallic and laced with venom. Your fingers are turning pages with pictures fading to grey. And my world is falling intertwined within them. I'm looking through kaleidoscopes trying to see colours. And your laughing because I'm doing it all so wrong.



I'm two steps forward, one shot back. And a night of regret because I want to feel alive again. Your hair is as long as the weeks I have been sick. I haven't told you yet. Your eyes will sparkle and you'll take it with a joke, and tell me I'm not sick enough. For you.



The machines that helped me breath, rattle like an everlasting cold in my bones. Standing hurt like wildfire, I set my teeth and fought. For him. For you. Powdered tears because I dried mine all up, and he calls me amazing. I'm no hero, I did what I had to..



Take my heartstrings, braid them through my vertebrae, stab me in the back. Your fingertips will trace my spine, moving in-out of the broken bones, playing hopscotch between slumped shoulders.

Coward, because I avoid your innocent eyes, naivety is no excuse..



Darling there's bile in my mind and

static in my veins.



I found myself on his shoulder crying, I'm not as ugly as she treats me, I'm not as ugly..


And doubting every word..

all is nothing.. without you

father, you know who i am

i am the girl falling asleep headfirst on top of the covers to the clackclackclacking of the rain against the windowpane. i am dreaming in tarnished poetry and rotting hopes, birdbone-wrists locking together, fingers plucking the strings along guitar-ribs. i am loving myself even as i pull apart wishbone-veins, stringing myself out across the carpet to pick out the parts i like best.

and i am the girl wandering the aisles of the book store. i am curling in corners with hemingway, touching the pages like a lover, smelling the ink because i’m the girl who thinks books smell like faith. i’m tucking myself between each syllable, climbing down the commas and resting on the vowels. i am sticking my post-it-note-wishes over the adjectives, waiting for the words to bleed through the page and stain the backside of my skin.

and i am the girl holding her elbows when watching the ocean. i am pulling the stitches closed and wincing against the saltwater on my scars. i am not afraid to look in my opal-reflection, but i’m not ready to face it just yet. because i am the girl building sand castles during high tide, the one running into the waves fully dressed. i am breathing in coral and starfish so that when i come apart, at least my insides will be beautiful.

and, oh, i am the girl throwing kerosene on the stars. i am the one setting the moon on fire. i am tearing apart the dictionary because none of the definitions work, ripping up words to create a collage of meanings that aren’t worth a thing. i am swallowing bullets and spitting out machine-gun-rounds, tearing off my skin because i swear it’s too tight. i am running with nothing but moonbeams, laughing with nothing but sarcasm, hating with nothing but empathy and losing with nothing but pride.
because:
i’m the girl that’s a messy dreamer.
i’m the girl that’s a mess.
i'm the girl that's--

but i want to know you!

because you are keeping my legs from folding.

because when i am tired, i am leaning on you, when i sad, i am crawling into your comfort. because you are hooking my lips and pulling them into a smile, building a fire in the belly of my soul and warming me from the inside out.

because when i am lost, you are pointing in the right direction, when i am shaking, you’re holding my hand and whispering it will be alright.

and because when i’m incoherent you’re closing your eyes and saying my rambling sounds a little like a creek. because when i’m jumping from thought to thought without leaving a trail, you’re laughing and calling it hopscotch, never missing a beat.