we talk a lot of shit,
we talk more about the serious stuff,
but how often do we really say
just what it is we want?

im sick of small talk about big issues.
im sick of having to speak at all.

i hate that i cant stand to be alone with myself anymore.

i hate that i have no control.
i hate
that our future starts with this.

i dont want it to be
like this.

so,
do i tell you what i want?
or do i follow my intuition
and let myself out
slowly
before i get shot down?

hold ur breath
liitle girl
you're not too old
you're just impatient.
for god's sake stop eating!
stop smoking and pacing
and walking, aimlessly
between rooms.
you have no need
to drink yourself away
every night.
you are happy.
you know that you are.
why fight it with caution?
hesitation gets you nowhere.
and all you have to do
is smile.

sit up straight
little girl
you're not too young,
you've done this all before.
take what you learnt from last time
and give this a real chance.
why the need to jump in
the deep end?
whats wrong
with wading in slowly?
little girl
let time take itself.
you'll be moving on
before you know it.
if this is meant to be
it will follow.
if not,
you'll learn to leave it
in the past.

worrying and lust
gets you nowhere
over the phone.
little girl
remember
you're in this on your own.

and so im falling...
in one day
the wheel of this too fast cycle
has turned on me again.
but this time
i have floaties
and as i am plumeting
into the deep end
i know that they will
lift me up
and before i know it
ill be bobbing back
along the surface.

for now though,
i'll just hold my breath.

just to explain the last post.. and any future 'songs' that i put up... they're projects set by a friend of mine. she knows how important therapetic distraction is to me and sets me these kind of tasks to stop me walking around the house aimlessly. i return the favour and we collect copies or photos of our efforts in a scrapbook. another close friend has been included now. its a great lil system we have. stops us wasting time. ive found that when im task orientated and busy, everything else works so much better. its the limbo time that kills me. they key now is, as always, ballance. its finding a way to have down time without it spiralling too deep. these self indulgent, expressive lil projects and good to feel like im working towards somthing without too much pressure.

on the whole, despite all thats going on around me, im doing really well. bad shit keeps happening, but im staying level headed enough to see around it. ive got this strange feeling that im coping and keep catching myself smiling. its fuking hillarious.

like thismorning, nothing worked out. everywhere i went i hit a dead end and spent most of the morning trying to find ppl who i couldnt reach. normally, this would have got me really restless, frustrated and down, but today i just came home, had a cup of tea on the deck and painted my fingernails red. so unlike me... but its funny. im amusing myself.

hope ur all finding something to smile about.
take care of urselves
g.g.

i'm building a fort in my bedroom,
in the house that i grew up in,
and i'm hiding in here
till it all goes away.
i cant stand it
when i cant help heal it.

it's been left to my imagination,
the wars being fought outside,
but now the imagery of stories
is burning inside my eyelids
and my stomach is churning.
i cant hide anymore.

i'm building a fort in my bedroom
but it's you i want to protect
and i figure this was
if ive got a castle
when the storm hits
you can hide here with me.

you
can hide
here with me.

its not so much about ignorance, as
shelter when things get too rough.
i dont think of it as escapism,
cauz there's no escaping this.
its just keeping me safe while im numb.

i'm building a fort in me bedroom,
in the house that i grew up in,
and it feels like all the time past
has just been a dream
and waking up to this
i'm home.

the smell of fresh cut grass...
Tim Buckley blaring on the sterio,
drowning out the Jeff in my head.
trying to stay distracted,
trying...

i read through your poetry.
i laugh and i cry.
that distraction cut
a little close to the bone,
but maybe
it was the bone
i needed to see.
past the blood and gore
of guilt
i find
your strength
and as your foil
i am terrified.

the mower in the front yard
edges close to my door.
the noise
is deafening.