okies, i just got back from my coffee with mel.
it was so so so so amazing.
we're actually pretty similar.
apart from the fact we share the same blood.
which i think was one of those unnecessary things that you don't have to state.
but which i stated anyway.
because you know, i'm like that.
but it was so good seeing her again
she's like the big sister i always wanted.
and yes, i sound pathetic and cliché
but she makes me happy.

okay, so i'm forcing myself to write a poem a day.
just to make future publication easier.
because i'll actually have something to publish.
chyeah. i've got the title planned out already.
now i just have to write the stuff that goes in it.
and proof it.
and make it wonderful.
and design a cover.
and then i'm set.
oh, and make someone like it.
which is hard.
since, unless your name is bruce dawe, there's not exactly a market for poetry.
not in australia anyway.
sigh. if only i were the pope.
he had a book of poetry published!
sure, it was after he died...okay, not so good.
anywho, i am a poet and i know it.
just channel my inner bruce dawe...
*channels*
i just feel like all my writing is the same in topic.
but it's an exploration of a theme!
it just needs more diversity.
i need to have more flexibility.
which means i need more experience.
but what else is there to experience?
maybe i need to live with a certain mindframe.
or while listening to the right sort of music.
like the jobros, yo~

and i hate having a phrase in my head
and nothing to link it to.
annoying much?

yes, i lied to save myself,
making it all up to run away,
it was nothing to do with wanting to stop,
no connection to slowing it down,
i couldn't give myself to you
because i never trusted you, when
i was down you were never my port of call,
and though you claimed to be there for me,
though you pleaded to be my rock, my saviour,
to protect me from the evils of my mind, the demons
that my emotions conjured up, you couldn't.
one poem and the accusations began to pour,
my confessions, my honesty, used to attack my credibility,
and then when i admit to self-destructivity,
you looked me in the eye and began to relay
a well-rehearsed speech designed to destroy,
'oh, i'm sorry baby, but i don't know that
i can continue to love someone like you,
someone who's damaged, a girl who can't face
her past, who is still addicted to past habits and
ancient memories, oh, i'm sorry baby, but look, no,
i'd rather not see reality, i'd rather not recognise
the problems that you have for fear of
seeing them in myself, i can't date a girl
who just doesn't have the confidence that i feign,
i want perfection, i don't want fucked up,
because i only have to look in the mirror to find that,
give me sex but cut the strings, give me gratification
but don't find me when you need a hug, when you need love
because i'm sorry baby, but i won't be there.'

i know what i said, that i loved you, that please, no more,
it's too intense, i'm not ready, i can't deal with it,
but truth be told, i don't do meaningless lust,
and i wasn't going to give my virginity to a stranger,
not matter how good he tasted, no matter how sweet his words,
i wanted someone who would hold me, rock me to sleep
when i couldn't defeat my depression on my own, when
i started to fall apart, when the pressure got to me,
when my mistakes caught up to me as i ran out of breath,
but no, what did i get? i confided in you because
i thought that you wanted me. that you accepted me
for i am and understood who i once was.
'i'm sorry baby, but no. i don't find you interesting anymore,
because you don't want to be my barbie doll, you won't feed my arrogance,
you won't tolerate the insults to your intelligence, and i'm sorry baby,
but if it's a choice between my ego and you, well, i'm going to put myself first
just like i always have. i'll send you flowers, because that's what i'm supposed to do,
but i won't be there for you when you need me,
i have halo to play and guitar hero to rock, time to waste,
and studying to do - though i don't need it. see this shiny medal?
another reason why you should listen to every word i say, follow
my every order, that way we can be together, that way i can use you
all while admiring the girl across the room, have you seen her on facebook?
she's so pretty, she has just the right jaw, she's my dream girl
brunetter and slender, you know, losing weight is always a good thing.
i'm sorry baby, yeah, i led you on, and now i'll walk away,
pretend you never existed, and hell, i'm sorry baby,
but i never cared about you anyway.'

oh, no, i'm the one who's sorry baby,
because there's beauty in my failings,
inspiration in my struggle, and i've faced my weaknesses,
and while you've left and become just another rejected horny teenage male
i've made a difference. i've changed my life.
not for a moment do i regret us, and i'm sorry baby,
but not for a moment do i regret never letting you in -
metaphorically and literally.

pent up anger much?
but damn, that felt good to write.
and yeah, the meaning is rather OMFG obvious.
but i don't have an issue with that.
because poetry is what i feel.
and it's freeing.
that's not the word.
liberating.
that's what poetry is.
and it's not what it seems.
because i've moved on.
that's why i've been so psycho happy lately.
because i feel like this dark cloud has just gone.
but hell.
i'm milking the relationship for all it's worth.
and it happens to be a brillaint source of inspiration.
i'm getting a real sense of déjà vu.
i swear, i dreamt this months ago.
whoa, weird much?

and if you read all that,
i'll give you cookies.

peace out and God bless.

lovelove, jess xxxx