GOOD POSTURE. GOOD FOUNDATIONS.

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I TOOK THE DIVE

Fucked up on red wine,
barely a familiar face in sight,
we were at that party on that October night.

I lost my will, I lost my mentality,
when I looked across the room
and i saw your eyes.

I remember your smile,
so smug, so sly.
That look across your face, after you made me and that feminist cry.

Despite the things you did,
despite the things you said,
I’ll always fall for the guy who makes me question my mind.

When the hipsters paired off.
When the stoners fell asleep.
I walked you home, not long after midnight.

On an empty street,
we walked among the silence.
Just you and I, and the fucking moonlight.

Without a single word,
without a hint of sanity,
without a single breath, I took the dive.

I took you by the hand.
You took me by the throat.
You made me feel like nothing, yet I came alive.

Why’d you have to go?
Why’d you have to lie?
My pants around my ankles, as I watched the sun rise.

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WITHIN TEMPTATION [aka gldn boi]

 

Midnight town.
Golden boy.
Man in a mask.

There’s a place.
We both know. Deep.
At the back of the park.

I am light.
Hear my cries.
I seek dark.

I’m no saint.
Beelzebub.
Wears an angel’s mask.

Take your time.
Take my mind.
Take my flesh.

Never stop.
Let’s get lost. Deep.
Within temptation.

Throw me down.
Spit the blood.
On the ground.

Wipe my tears.
Stain my face.
Tar on porcelain.

Hold me down.
Dig your teeth. Deep.
Into my chest.

Bleeding hearts.
Speak no lies.
Don’t you know?

Scream out loud.
Hear the pleasure.
In my voice.

Grip my throat.
Silence the voice. Deep.
In my mind.

Don’t slow down.
Take me over.
Take control.

Don’t let go.
I need to know.
That you’re here.

Loosen your grip.
I breathe lies. Deep.
Into my lungs.

You’re a flame.
Like a moth.
Can’t resist.

Illumination.
Reality is calling,
Don’t pick up.

Cover my eyes.
I’m at home. Deep.
In the dark.
Never leave.
I’m at home. Deep.
Within your grip.

See no light.
I come alive.
Am I dead?

Who are you?
Where’s the light?
Where am I?

You are gone.
The light is gone.
Where am I?

Dirt stained clothes.
Dirt stained hands.
Dirt stained mind.

Open my eyes.
Dust my hands.
Feel the light.

See no truth.
See no lies.
Start again.

Funny Face

Every time you’re at my place
you burn a shadow on my face.
I don’t want to say I need you,
but my scars they ache to see you.

Every time I’m all alone
I read those messages on my phone.
I listen to Flower by Liz Phair,
and imagine your hands are tangled in my hair.

Every time I go down town
I fantasize that we’re the only ones around.
At the end, my heart it races,
and I make those funny faces.

GHOSTS OF YESTERDAY

I know you
and your hesitations.
Sometimes i need you in the middle of the night.
But in your bedroom
you just
hide.

Anxiety
eats at you like an infection.
Sometimes I just need you to stand up and fight.
But from the ghosts
you just
hide.

I’m moving on
from the ghosts of yesterday.
Take my hand.
Together we can run away.

Can’t you understand
tomorrow is just a few blocks away.
And I couldn’t bare
if you were to fade away.

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

A Boy Like Me

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

 

I’m a mess of a boy with nothing going on,
but that’s alright with me.
I never cut my hair or shave my face,
but that’s okay.

I won’t throw stones or break your bones.
These words were made for healing.
And if you ever catch a glimpse of a visual hiss,
just know it means nothing.

Continue reading “A Boy Like Me”

THE HISS & THE THUD

Mothers always love me,

but fathers never do.

Because they know my secret,

because they know the truth,

because they’ve seen every inch of what a boy can do.

 

I want the nice boys to love me.

I want the nice boys to hate me.

I want the nice boys to reach out,

to touch me,

to know me.

 

I want them to take me home.

I want to meet their parents

I want to weave my way into their lives,

like a parasite.

Like an infection.

 

Here I am, here I am.

All you were to me was another score on the board.

Here I am, with a hiss, with a thud.

The mess you made has finally come undone.

 

 

My Father is a runner.

My Mother likes to hide.

And My Brother likes to think

That we can’t see in between

All of his lies.

 

Lonely people love me.

This I know is true.

Whether it’s grandparents, stoners,

Or the man down the street

Who only wants to screw.

 

Am I the son he never had?

Am I the Brother he always hated?

Or, am I the Father who never loved him

Who always abused

And degraded?

 

Here I am, here I am.

My Father’s baby boy. My daddy’s little whore.

Here I am, with a hiss, with a thud.

The mess you made has finally come undone.

 

 

Sometimes I feel like

the living breathing epitome of ennui

Trapped in my own existential hell.

My only company are the mirrors reflection,

and the ghosts on TV.

 

Staring at the boy across from me.

The one who looks, walks, and talks like me.

I study every line, and find no sanity.

Watching as the last traces of my mentality

Drip out from the back of my brain, and finally escape me.

 

Now I just lay here shouting

“YAS QUEEN! YAS QUEEN!”

At the grim reaper

As that harbinger of death

Comes tap tap tapping at my door.

 

Here I am, here I am.

I’m just another fucking stain on this rental house floor.

Here I am, with a hiss, with a thud.

The mess you made has finally come undone.

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH
Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

LEARNING TO EXIST

Like most people, I don’t remember much from the early years of my existence.

There are some things that I do. Like, I remember being about 3, wearing overalls, and standing next to my Mum as she hung out clothes on the washing line. I remember arguing with a boy in pre-school, because Rick was my best friend, not his (I don’t remember who Rick is, but I’m sure my argument was entirely valid). And I remember , when I was in grade 2, the Principal was yelling at me in his office for running away from school, yet again.

I have a few scattered memories, but that’s about it. But, the one main thing I remember about growing up is that I was always sad, and I didn’t know why.

This is something that has stuck with me throughout my entire life. I’ve always felt empty, I’ve always felt isolated, and I really don’t know why.

What didn’t help this was growing up as a closeted gay kid in a small town, which was inhabited by even smaller minded people.

And, this feeling of emptiness reached it’s peak when I was sixteen, when I attempted to kill myself.

I don’t remember much from the night when it happened. I just remember being sad, and confused, and angry, and I didn’t want to be anymore.

It’s not something I talk about very often, and it’s not something that I have told many people about, but it’s something that afterwards made me feel even more isolated from the people around me. I became even more closed off. I retreated back into my dark place.

A few years ago, I escaped the suffocation of small town life, and moved to Brisbane. A city far bigger than the town I grew up in, both in size and cultural diversity. Eventually I have learnt to somewhat deal with my emotions, and have become a more positive and open person (or so I think so).

But, being a minority in a society that mainly caters to those who aren’t, hasn’t made it any less difficult to keep myself from closing off from the world again. And, living in a place like Brisbane, amongst all of the crowds and all of the intensity, can actually be quite lonely.

Sometimes you have to shout just to be heard, and I don’t always have the energy to do so.

Sometimes, I find myself feeling so overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted that I question whether any of it matters, if existing just for the sake of it is even worth it. And, it’s so easy to indulge in these thoughts. To hide away from everything else. To crawl back into the dark.

That’s why I always have to remind myself, and this goes for anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation, even though it seems like you’re in a world alone, there are other people out there. People that love you. People that are facing their own demons, even if they don’t show it.

And that, even though it can be scary wearing your heart on your sleeve, you need to open yourself up to people, instead of pushing them away. You need to embrace new experiences, and remember that the unknown and unexpected can be good. And, remember that there are going to be bad times, as well as good, and that’s okay. That’s just a part of life.

And, when you do find yourself in a dark patch, remember that you have been through so much worse, and you’re still here. You still exist.

There’s a quote from one of my favourite TV shows, ‘Buffy, the Vampire Slayer‘ (I’ll ignore your eye rolls), that has stuck with me since I first heard it.

“The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.”

As cheesy as it sounds, it’s so very true.

Even though it might be hard, you need to keep fighting. And, even though at times it might not seem like it, you matter. You’re existence matters.

Be brave. Live.

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

 

Originally posted on COLLECTIVE BLISS in 2014.

Photography by Darcy Rhodes.