She was rose petals, and frilly skirts. Blonde hair and curls, always perfectly placed. She’d drink bubbly teas and ask strangers what their names were. I remember how bright the days were then, always seemed more vibrant than the past. Though these days never did quite seem to last.

She’d fade to this mellow gal, wearing overalls and had buttercups in her hair. Sometimes it was blue, others red, I think at one point it was even hot pink? She changed it so often I’ve lost track. Always smelt of fresh leaves and tea tree oil. I think she was forgetting to take care of herself. You could see the glossiness in her eyes, something wasn’t right but you couldn’t pinpoint just what. She’d hide it well through this ‘healthy’ thing she decided to take up. You know, green tea and yoga on fresh cut grass in the summer breeze. A charade that she truly believed.

Slowly, she’d forget. At first it was the occasional ‘I’ll do it tomorrow’, but tomorrow never quite came because each day would be the same. She switched her high waisted skirts and crop top tees for band shirts and ripped jeans. Her colourful hair was outgrown roots, tied up in messy buns. Not quite so bright, but nevertheless fun. But then.. came the drinking.

One night turned into two. And two turned into a week binge, having to be carried home by the club bouncer because she couldn’t do it on her own. She started asking strangers what their names were again, but this time for different reasons. She seemed to be missing something, herself maybe. That glossiness in her eyes was now a vacant grey and those grown out colours were switched to jet black hair, pierced her nose but swore she was okay. Tea was now whiskey at the bar where you could find the local punk bands play. Doing cocaine in bathrooms with boys she just met who she swears she was friends with. She was fun in a different kind of way. She was dangerous, a hollow shell trying to fill the void by any means possible.

The void slowly began to grow. She stopped going out to drink, but instead did it alone. Drank in dark rooms and wrote about how she used to be. It wasn’t too long ago but it’s hard to think that that was her. Instead now memories haunt her of her dark past and she realized that each part of her was trying to run away. And each time the memory of their hands on her, she would split into the next girl. Each time draining her to the point where she’d forget who she was before it began. And now she’s realized she’s ran all she can.

So she sits there, mind muddled between each of the girls she’s created and the nothingness that’s been slowly eating away at her mind. She doesn’t remember how she got here.

And I can’t believe that she’s me.


I’m losing myself again, I don’t care to be found 

It’s hard to write
with hands
that don’t feel like mine..

the emptiness
in my chest feels like home

always by myself but never quite alone

the numbness
is creeping in again,
a familiar feeling

i welcome it with
and wine
feeding it pills
passing the time

Late nights, drugs and inner demons

I’ve realized

the drugs have stopped working

Not completely as some nights
I’m swept away with nothingness,
no recollection of how
I ended up with a pill bottle in my bed

Except now I’m forced to face the demons that dwell in my head

As their voices get louder
when the sun goes down
Or maybe the nightfall
is when I welcome them in

Sadness is my illness yet also my cure
I cannot fathom why I keep opening that door

I know there’s a solution
yet I don’t ask for more
I’m content with their company
I welcome their words
As they write these stories
They help fill the blurs

The blurs of nothingness and emptiness

For I’d rather be sad than feel nothing at all

I’d rather them here than be lonely awaiting your call

In the depth of the night
when I can’t reach your warmth
I close my eyes and let them come forth

Bad company is better than no company to me

I know that sounds self destructive,
but can’t you see

I’m a self destructive machine

awaiting the end zone
You know this,
I know this – it’s never been gone
The loneliness and my demons
are always beside me

Something you’re not,
but it’s something you see

I’m content by myself, as I’m alone
but with them I am not lonely

The Rush You Gave Me

I’m trying to replicate
the rush you gave me.
I can feel your presence
with each bad decision.

I swear, I heard your voice that night
telling me I was being reckless,
but I know it was the drugs I took
mixed with whiskey.

I just want to hear your voice again,
so I keep doing it

Hoping you’ll say more this time.

With each glass I pour down my throat,
I can feel your arms wrapped around me..
Until I open my eyes and see her.

I would rather have you hold me,
but she’s here and you’re not.

Numb Without You

I’m about 5 lines in,
the room is spinning.
Yet.. somehow I feel still.

I’m in a room of strangers
and my heart searches for you.
For that comfort
that will put my body to rest.
I’m on edge,
I need to feel your touch.

Their words are moving into sounds,
in the background of my mind
while I dream of you.

Not listening, but observing.
Not quite living, but surviving. 

– I wanted to feel something other than my need for you but all I feel is numbness and loneliness.