November 2013
Who
knows if substances are the kick, spur, or the chance I take to
increase my chance of a drop, pass or season of floating above the
surface, like rubbish on an greyed stale puddle. Most days feel like
having two sketchy voices inside. The happy voice is in a cage with bars
as
walls and a soft velvet cushion placed in the centre to sit on and
observe. Another voice lingers, it's long fingers curl around each bar,
glaring in with sharp teeth and glowing
eyes looming. When happy voice wins it dances
in the middle of a white open room with windows and fresh morning
sunlight beaming in.
I don't need possessions or fabricated
sources - none of that who said what and what's the latest...OMG . I'm impressed by experience
rather than flash. An image pops up of tea and
cake and having a lush day - the lush shared with a person, allowed,
embraced, accepted.
He was my rescue and I adored it but now I need to be my own.
A friend used to ask me what am I running from - and now I know I was and always am running from myself.
November 2013 - sometime later
To Mum
How are you? How is work and how are the cats?
Who am I kidding. You aren't at work - you're probably gardening
somewhere with dirty glove hands, curls splayed into the sun, your boobs
shaking about over mud knees with 90s shaped jeans dyeing your legs.
I
don't imagine you with Dad. I imagine you in Dad's company. His lean
legs
flop over the garden chair as he reads the paper back to front, I could
never understand the page logic - he wasn't even left handed. Dad's fine
hair picks a light glow as the clouds block his eyes from blinding. He
wears a blue flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves, this sits above
ripped grey cut off shorts and dark aged slippers that hang slightly off
his feet. Proportions are irrelevant now though I like the idea that he
is still taller than me and my head would fit on his chest when we hug.
The cats are there too. They liked it when we cut the grass, we were in
their land, their territory, until they wanted to come back into ours.