tell me again how im so great tell me again how you cant wait to spend your time with me how about how you've never met anyone quite like me in your lifetime and how maybe one day you might even want to make me your wife
except im over all your lies all your truthlessness and ridiculous alibies and if you dont come round and take all of your stuff away dont be surprised to find it all on ebay
and then it was cold and i wondered where the heat from you had gone i knew where you'd go but i hoped you wouldnt stay for too long when the tide was high we walked down by the sea you held my hand you were right there with me it didnt feel like half your heart was home with her
you hang up in a huff and as if that wasnt enough now the scars are physical i had to search, it had been that long to find something to make the mark visable
and i havent cried in so long but you mangaed to get some it only took two seconds for the tears to come
because for some reason i am out of my mind for feeling some concern and now my friendship with you is something you'll have to earn
do you miss me? in the dead of the night? do you think of me? and how we felt so right?
met you in the cooler part of the year when the sunlight has to fight to pass the clouds a darkened room, the music played, two faces in a crowd and when i looked back you were looking my way too
summer hair winter eyes spring in my heart you made me fall
the sand that seemed to play a major part in all our get togethers meeting by the beach no matter what the weather keep it as a souvenier now its all that i have left
summer hair winter eyes spring in my heart you made me fall
And just like that she breaks another heart as easily as snapping a twig from a tree. She leaves without a backward glance and returns home alone. Her outward persona is not what you would call cold. To see her now, walking down the dark street towards her car, you would be hard pressed to describe her as any one thing in particular. She is focused but distant, her concentration is set somewhere else deep inside her head. She must be able to hear the cries from the top floor, but no feeling registers upon her face. As she slides the key into the lock the final scream reverberates through the stairwell of the block of flats. A deep wail, high into the night sky and out into the dark. In the surrounding apartments, people look up from their books, away from their televisions. Cocking their heads to side, frowning as they strain to hear, turning to their partners, looking to see if everything is alright. Her only reaction; to get in the car and drive away. She doesn’t understand. Through childhood and into her teenage years no one paid her a second glance. Diaries full of her latest crushes, all that unreturned love. Friends with boyfriends and love interests, dreams of being just like them. By fifteen she had resigned herself to the fact that she was not loveable. Not sexy or alluring. Not worthy of someone else’s emotions. Now, nearing her thirties she is almost innocent to the advances of interested parties. Completely surprised by their love and attention. Two, maybe three weeks go by. Its fun and its good. You can’t find a fault. Then she’ll lay it out on the table as plain as day. ‘I will break you’ It is not a conscious decision. It’s not planned or premeditated. It’s not even obvious when it’s happening. One day though, she will hear the audible snap, the crack the rice bubble effect. She hears the snap crackle and pop of their heart breaking. Then it’s the rush of the walls building quickly around her. Nobody ever goes in, nobody ever comes out. She is nearing home. She doesn’t need to cast her mind back to remember all the times it has happened. As she closes her eyes in her large empty bed and drifts off to sleep, the dream hits her and she’s forced to remember. The eyes. It’s the eyes. Rows and rows of eyes, staring at her. Full of sadness and pleading with her to fix everything. The scene changes as if a camera is zooming out and she sees the bodies of her broken army. They are holding their hands to their chests, clutched over their left breast. Blood pours to the ground and floods along the earth. No amount of pressure will stem the flow. They are forever broken and the blood and hurt will run forever. The camera follows the stream of blood along the ground and to the base of a tall tree. Sitting on a wide branch we see the girl. In her hand she is gently holding a bundle of sticks. Broken twigs.
i've got so much to tell you if only i could find the words that said exactly what i try to mean
there's so much to show you but the pictures that i draw these days dont look the way i want them to
and you asked me what i wanted i stared at you for what felt like a day still havent responded but at the time i knew that it would be the best for me to go away
so i packed my bags i told you it was for the best that this would never do
you said 'relax' and when i looked at you i knew the answer right away
its not what i want this life we lead, i'm over it its time to go, its time to move on its not what i want but what i do know? i dont want this
sounding too much like a motivational greeting card the end is just the beginning of something new but all along the way i kept noticing little things that made me think of you even though i started out to write a song obliquely and anonymously you'll search between the words and find the ones to which you belong
separated by the city some phone lines and technology your words can reach deep inside we managed to create a meeting place a little place where we can hide in the blue room we can hide secrets told and questions answered meet me in the blue room later
nothing tangible its all data are letters lost forever after? this winter is mild but its cold inside my bed quiet on the outside inside i go wild when i close my eyes i see you when i open them none of it is true
who is at the end of the rope? who is holding on the tightest? who has the softest, gentlest hands? who will give and take till they win? who will let it slip through their fingers? who will kiss the rope burns better? when the rope drops to the ground, one will wlk away victorious but who will coil the rope and put it away? who is left to take care of the mess?
do you remember me?
i know its been ten years but i havent changed that much
seeing you now and thinking back, you havent changed a bit
its strange to see you here again, what are the odds?
we're both on our old stomping ground, are we reliving the past?
but im so glad ive had the chance to see you once again
i never thought id get the opportunity
to rub it in your face how better off i am without you
yeah, im so glad i broke up with you
wow, you know, im so glad we've had this little chat
feels good to get it all out in the open
10 years is a long time ago but man, ou made an impression
i always bring you up when asked of teenage regrets
how i wish i listened to my mum and noticed how you dressed
she asked me what happens when the silver lining breaks
i wondered for a moment if you were making a mistake
i couldnt get my head around half the things she said
am i stupid? is she too new? or is she the perfect one for you
and even though i knew it couldnt stay like this forever
in the end it was easier to blame the weather
im suing sundays for false advertising
that day will never be the same
teh clouds broke open like you broke apart my heart
can i ever trust a day again?
i saw you smile and the smile you gave was genuine and true
and even though you werent looking at me my eyes were right on you
was what she said to me supposed to sound profound?
was i looking at it from the wrong way round?
and even though i knew it couldnt stay like this forever
in the end it was easier to blame the weather
im suing sundays for false advertising
that day will never be the same
teh clouds broke open like you broke apart my heart
can i ever trust a day again?
the clean smell of talcum powder. a small black book filled with years and years of x loto numbers, written neatly in rows. putting on lipstick while sitting in front of the dresser. malt flavoured milo and brown bread. quietly opening the linen cupboard in the dark hallway to sneak a sweet smell of neatly folded sheets. the softness of her hands. the beauty in her smile. the love and laughter in her eyes. the sadness i felt the day i looked into them and saw her beginning to give up. how my sadness reflected hers, as if she could read my mind.
i loved to visit my nanna and poppas house. the drive seemed so long then; i know now its only 25 minutes away, but i guess when you're small everything seems bigger than it really is.
standing in the porched doorway. hearing the latch turn in the heavy glass door and seeing her face. she is so pretty.
'hello dear'. she opens the door. my young lips not as soft as her cheek as we kiss her hello, filing past her, down the hall.
i take my shoes off and wriggle my toes in the deep pile of the carpet.
are we thirsty? would we like a glass of lemonade? i have a special glass with painted blue snowflakes on the side and she always remembers. it used to be the glass they'd keep the milk money in. its mine now. we're allowd to pour a dash of cordial into our drinks. green, red or orange, which ever we like.
we have a snack of country cheese biscuits or saladas. later we'll be allowed icecream with milo on top.
we dont help ourselves here. nanna's house requires manners. this is an unspoken rule that we follow without arguement. we would never be rude here. we are all good kids in this house.
'can we please make cubbies?'
of course we can, and we're out in the back room, spreading blankets precariously over groups of chairs and lining the floor beneath them with mattresses that are soft and pliable. you can wrap yourself up in them, and we do. giggling and rocking from side to side. we bump the chairs and the blankets fall down over us. thats ok. we sart the game again and play for what seems like hours.
later, the divan which always fascinates me, becomes two horses. one each. balanced on their sides, the foam hardly giving an inch with our weight. when we lean too much to one side the mattress falls to the ground with a thud. we land softly, roll off and start again. this game is never boring.
the cupboards are full of strange old toys and craft objects made by our mother, aunties and uncle. odd pieces of meccano, marbles, mosaic trivets made of glass stones.
after packing up the back room we venture to the spare room. the built in wardrobe holds many trasures. a ladies old clothes. dresses hanging long and still. i think they're my grandmas. she lives in a nursing home and confuses me with my mum. we dont play with the dresses, we leave them be. on the other side of the cupboard are my grandpas bowls. we dont touch those either. he's dead.
up high are the games. fact finder fun and a disney version of pairs. a crayola caddy with all the colours still in their place.
on the shelves behind the mirrored glass doors of the dresser are miscellaneous make up containers. my favourite is the green and white eyeshadow. i apply it with my fingertips and decide that i must look grown up now. i brush my hair with my favourite hairbrush which is always on this dresser. i brush it till its shiny and soft and walk out to where the adults are drinking cups of tea. no one notices how i look.
it's time to play outside. we head down the back,a round and under the fruit trees and behind the rainwater tank. we've placed smooth round rocks around the wooden base of the tank. we've done this for as long as we can remember but there's still room for more. this means a walk up the road for us, to the house with the rocks. a couple in each hand and we're off again, balancing along the tops of concrete fences all the way home. if we need more we'll go again later.
there are marbles buried in the soft dark soil. pieces of lego and old plastic toys. the dirt smells different here. sweeter, mustier. especially under the over hanging branches of the fig tree. an old rusty wheelbarrow turned upside down serves as the doorbell. spin the wheel and the screetch declares we have a visitor.
the tree in front of the loungeroom window is the best for climbing. there is a special branch just right for swinging. i can swing the highest because i am the biggest. i can also climb the highest. i can see a nest but i wont go near it incase the babies take on my smell and the mummy bird turfs them out. no one should get left behind.
it's possible, if you're careful and clever enough, to walk the entire perimetre of the house standing only on the concrete footing surrounding it. my favourite part is under the carport, around the drain. its a large, round lump of concrete, painted till its shiny. it tickles your feet with withs smoothness. the house is built of laquered rocks of dark brown. theyr'e shiny and strong, yet soft at the same time. the fence is made the same way except for the capping and posts. theses are a rough white concrete that tickles your bare soles in a different way.
we must 'mind the roses' when we climb on the the fence. we are reminded that our mother once fell into the rose bushes when she was younger, and had thorns digging into her all over. we've never fallen. we're too clever to do that.
i woke up with my feet wet in the bottom of my sleeping bag. Just like you said they would be.
you were always right.
i'd wanted to camp close to the lake so i could watch the sun rise over the water. i always imagined it would be the most beautiful thing in the world. to see the water change colour with the rays of the sun, reflecting the sky as the world started to sing its good mornings.
you told me i'd get wet. that the water seemed to seep up the banks over night and that i'd be flooded. you said it with such... aargh, you had to have an answer for everything, didn't you? i was never allowed to wonder, to imagine, you always told me things so matter of factly. the ideas i had would never work, you said, and here are the scientific, mathematic, historic and environmental reasons why.
couldn't you just let me try?
so here i am, in the place you told me never to camp, to say goodbye to you. and thinking about you now makes me so angry, instead of crying my 'goodbyes' and 'i miss you's', i feel like screaming to you to fuck off.
you were right. the water does rise. but the sight before me seems to have dampened my anger, just like the lake has dampened my toes.
i was right too.
seeing the sun rise from behind the trees, scattering the birds into the morning sky and playing its brightness over the lake, i can tell you now that this is the most beautiful thing in the world.
and i can say goodbye.
dont say a thing
i never needed anyone to put these feelings into words before
dont wait for it to ring
im not gonna call you right now
im saving my coins for a rainy day
was looking in my pockets for some change
i found a spool of thread and a not that read
'you'll never find it here'
its a city of coins
divided into towers of conversations
a map of people i should call
do i still have a choice?
if i knock one down will all the others fall?
watching from above
all the pieces fell in place
you see that guy? he won the race
just this once, can i not think of what i have to face?
was looking in my pockets for some change
i couldnt find it there and my whole world it all remained the same
its a city of coins
divided into towers of conversations
a map of people i should call
do i still have a choice?
if i knock one down will all the others fall?
was looking in my pockets for some change
i found a spool of thread and a not that read
'you'll never find it here'
was looking in my pockets for some change
i couldnt find it there and my whole world it all remained the same
you never liked me on a tuesday
you always criticized my choice of tv
you said the plot line was far fetched, said that there wasn't enough sex
you'd even rather watch the midday movie
i said you never gave it a chance
yeah, sure, its sappy, full of romance
but don't you think it's worth exploring?
you might find it's not that boring
but on tuesday night im always embraced
by the light that's shining, filling the place
with all the things you and i never could be
one tuesday night we settled in
you with a scowl, me with a grin
the music played, i bopped along
maybe you'd see you were wrong
an hour later you were fast asleep
i turned off the tv, got to my feet
i know you're never gonna get it
perhaps its just time to forget it
but on tuesday night im always embraced
by the light that's shining, filling the place
with all the things you and i never could be
how can you cry with everyone but me?
when my tears for you fall so easily
i want you to catch them
mix them with yours
then we'd be together
for once, for ever more
you cant kiss me where i'm hurting
you cant make it all feel better
i want to look at you
with a smiling face
you just make it wetter
i'm not good enough with words
to fill my song with fancy metaphors
and im not clever enough
to make it sound like closing a welcome home door
it's the first time you've heard it an it's something that you've heard before
filled my cup to the brim
spilled it over till the coffee stained over the floor
studied the patterns it made
couldn't find anything but was i hoping for anything more?
it's the first time you've heard it and it's something that you've heard before
i followed a star and i wished it away
stepped on the cracks when i asked you to stay
stroked a black cat, i walked under a ladder
the mirrors all smashed but does that really matter?
things that float
and shimmer
make me safe make me
feel like i belong
where i know im lost
i float i shrink i shine
i sparkle i become invisible
its warm its safe its cosy
warm its dark i can see
i see it all so clearly now
he stares and she stares back and they laugh and they keep walking
she forgets about the boy, except for his deep, dark eyes, she forgets about the staring, except for conjouring stories of long distance love
he is all forgotten in a week
see the man, his face is new, it doesnt freeze her feet to the floor or buckle her knees, her legs turning to crepe paper, her heart ramming against her ribs, her stomoach in her throat until she sees it isnt him. he's just a man
quiet confidence. walking, eyes downcast, she isnt hiding, she's just thinking. all alone and surrounded by friends. happy and healthy. no secrets
jaspers lip quivered. the skin was soft and inviting but he dare not take a bite. instead he tased : at first with just his lips, mouthing at it and then with his tongue. swirling wetness over the engorged organ of his friend. suddenly with an overwhelming eagerness and hunger he devoured him, burying his cock deep in his throat, his nose and forehead against his tummy.
big day
in a little world
do i stay?
or turn the key in the door?
same day
all over again
today
can we just play pretend
oh, you make it so...
i didnt know that someones smile
could make the whole world seem worthwhile
i'd do anything...
i didnt know that someones smile
could make my whole life seem worthwhile
i'd do anything
and he just keeps pushing. and all i can think of is run, go, get out while you still can. and those eyes stare right through me as if they're stealing my secrets. and i try to shut down, to keep him out, to disappear into that place where only i am allowed inside, but he keeps pulling me back with his requests for love and a closeness that i just cant give him. get out, my heart screms, get out while you're still capable of thought. get out before you sink inside yourself so deep that you cant pull yourself out anymore. why wont you love me, he asks, eyes pleading, why cant you show me that i count, that i matter? but it's too late for that. he's pushed too hard and i've sunk right down. it's safe and warm in here. comfortably dark
the hallway light is always on to keep us safe. watch the triangles of yellow light above my doorway, streaming along my carpet.
canwe turn the light of now? you arent a baby anymore
sleeping. all wrapped up. jeans. knickers. belt done up tight. t shirt tucked in.
i wont have to get dressed tomorrow
(so i wont have to be undressed tonight)
there's half a broomstick by the side of my bed and a book full of lies underneath it.
he was dribbling on me
you loved it
but you dont understand, he was dribbling on me
something like that
the door creaks, clacks against itself as it folds to the side
the hallway light is on, why doesnt it work?
legs tighter. eyes closed. i'm away now. it's home time. off i go. see you in the morning
i heard you got engaged
well i read it in an article
in one of those magazines
that my nanna reads
full of posey pictures,
gossip and recipes
there was a picture of you there
a glass in one hand
her hand in your other hand
she's a tiny thing
long blonde hair
teeth as bright as her diamond ring
i dont wear designer clothes
ive never been to and opening night show
im just an ordinary girl
trying to live in my ordinary world
do you remember me?
im pretty sure that im that girl from your dreams
never saw you till you went away
grabbed your things and headed for the train
bracelet slipped from your wrist to the floor
i picked it up, i wish i could have more
part of you is mine
always with me always on my mind
now every face i see today is yours
i picture you behind unopened doors
but in my dreams i guess you'll have to stay
at least that means you'll never go away
part of you is mine
always with me always on my mind
circle small dont want to stretch it
wont fit for me, your hands are smaller
you're slight of hand
slight of hand
i thought your car was really cool
so did every girl in every school
i saw you once at the deli up the street
everyday since i hoped that we would meet
punk rocker, EH boy
had a denim jacket and a wicked smile
never met a boy with eyes so blue
and a car that still judged speed by miles
i bought a mars bar to be just like you
i kept the wrapper till it faded through
its just the stupid kind of thing i do
trivial treasures of my crush on you
punk rocker, EH boy
had a denim jacket and a wicked smile
never met a boy with eyes so blue
and a car that still judged speed by miles
waited on the corner for you to drive past
thought about waving but you went too fast
so there it is
all laid out on the table like im just supposed to take it
reaching out with that put down voice only i can hear
its enough, you had your turn, its time to pass it on
leave it and just turn around
will you ever learn?
none of this is meant for you
it was all just a game
except you're not very good at playing
at least thats one thing that'll stay the same
so i hand it over and i take my things
i promise i wont look back
my feet do all the walking forward
my mind is losing track
was it your voice i heard when the wind blew quietly along the street that night?
was it your hand i felt tickling my ankles and hushing me goodnight?
i could have sworn i saw your face in a pile of fallen leaves
smelled your scent in a coffee cup
and tasted you in the afternoons musty air
i looked for you but all i ever saw was your goodbyes
and next time, this i promise you, i wont even dare to try
say it loud and say it till it's ringing in your ears
say it till it boosts your hopes and drowns out all your fears
i am me and that's all i'll ever need myself to be
if you can't take it, i suggest you look the other way
look right through me and you see me as you see all the rest
now look at me, really see me, see how i can shine
i'm here, i'm ready, with my helpers me, myself and mine
i'm not the little woman, i'm not the better half
i'm not just your old lady and i'm not saying thins for laughs
did you know i had a name? i've had it all my life
long before i dissappeared and became someones wife
how did you sleep?
with your front against her back to keep you warm?
fingers tangle gently in your hair, tickle your skin
did you hold her tight till the morning light?
did you open your eyes and find her gone?
just a pillow that you were holding on to?
did you close your eyes and dream her back
till everything felt real again?
did you smile and tingle inside because,
for once
something felt right
did you breathe in deep, savouring her scent
remembering each curve, each freckle
did you lick your lips to taste her again?
pull her closer, not to lose her again?
or is that just me
there's a pixie who lives in my chest
who pulls at my ribs when i take a breath
and in my belly, something rolls and jabs
and pokes and on and on it goes
behind my eyes, fingers try to pull them from
their place
and small black creatures dart around
the corners of my face
there's something over there
small and fast, it doesnt care
that when i try to catch it
it dissappears into thin air
and the voices who whisper
quick and quiet
but loud enough to understand
pull me in and try to keep me
what is crawling in my legs?
hot and stingy, i should scratch them out
sometimes i wish my hands were stronger
sometimes i think i could let go
breathing
just comes naturally to most
me? i find my mind has become host
to more things that i could ever hold on to
thoughts and feelings taking over
breathing, talking, walking, thinking
easy things become harder
i find myself searching for
the easiest solution
making sure to take the hardest path
one thing
just a scrap of paper
or a sniff of the air
memories flooding like a sink
with the plug left in
follow me now
im lost off the track
hold onto my hand
to lead me back
will you jump or will you run?
will you let me fly?
just a scrap of paper
or a sniff of the air
just a crooked street sign
or something you'll wear
thoughts start running like
a dog at a stick
make your decision, make it quick
let me fly or say goodbye
wouldnt it be cool if we were 5 years old
hiding under blankets from
the dark and from the cold
would'nt have a problem with doing what we're told
still had our hopes and dreams to hold
sleeping in the backroom
a blanket for a roof
friends because we knew we were
never needed any proof
geraniums for mum and a smile for dad
kept us thinking nothing could be bad
thinking back to the best times that we had
running barefoot in the sunshine till
night time played its hand
the stars we spotted through the dirty glass are still the same
even though we may have forgotten their names
it could have been me
walking home with your jacket on
it could have been me
asking the dj to play your favourite song
it could have been me
it could have been me
as time went on i could see
it could have been
it should have been
maybe its better for me that its her?
doesnt really matter what might have been
there's so many things in this world, unseen
so many different lives unlived
had i not tried i could never forgive
it's tip-e-go
so you must take me with you
just say the word
you wont even know i'm there
but if you wont
at least tell me where you're going
i'll see if i can meet you there
I’ve got good intentions and I
know what I want to do but I
cant bring myself to talk to you
I just go weak at the knees and I’d
rather you thought of me as
someone to count on…….someone just like you
so I stand around, drinking with you and our friends
you punch my arm and we all laugh
the beer gets spilled and we all stare at the ground
I reach into the back of the car and pass out another round
I wonder if you can see me
Through all that beer in your eyes
I’ve tried a bit harder tonight
Tried to let you see through my disguise
I guess im just a mate to you
There’s nothing else ive ever been
And by the looks of things,
I’ll never be the girl of your dreams
Summer. Hot, sticky Summer. She was all laid out in front of me and all I had to do was take her.
Summer. Blonde, tanned, hot, sweaty, sticky, semi-naked Summer. Her left leg slid up the lounge, her small foot resting against the inside of her right knee. There was a crease where her thigh met her hips, and I wanted to slip my fingers inside the fold, just below the line of her bikini. Summer was all I could see, all I could think of, all I could dream about. She leant up, resting on her elbows and her hair fell softly down her back. I knew she was looking at me, I could tell, even through her sunglasses that her eyes were on me. I felt vulnerable, shifting uncomfortably on the smooth edge of the pool. I decided looking away was the best option… my eyes decided that before my head did. I watched my feet dangling in the water, the cool liquid running through my toes, but I could still see her out of the corner of my eye.
Summer was 15. Summer looked about 18, and I looked 14, exactly how old I was. I felt 14 too, in bathers that covered too much of what I didn’t have.
I watched the boys on the other side of the pool, laughing and splashing each other. it was obvious from the way they looked around that it was an attention seeking device. it seemed to work though, there wasn’t much else to look at anyway. Except Summer. but I couldn’t spend the entire day staring at her, could I?
‘Watch out!!’ I heard it, but it didn’t register, and as I looked up to see where the noise was coming from a huge wave of water rained down over me, the sound of the water almost, but not quite, drowning out the sound of the boys laughing.
My hair was plastered to my face and I was completely soaked. I stood up slowly, grabbed my things and headed for the change rooms, dripping from head to toe.
I sat on the bench inside the small room and looked at my bag, watching my clothes swim in a puddle at the bottom. I kicked it across the room and heard the snap of my sunglasses as it hit the wall.
Well, my day couldn’t get any worse now I guess.
I could hear footsteps. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. I put my head down and hid behind my sopping hair. The footsteps stopped and a shadow fell over me. I waited for it to go away, for the person to find another change room, but they didn’t. Whoever it was must have loved staring at me because they didn’t seem to want to leave.
I looked up slowly, trying to focus on the shadowed outline in the doorway. The glare from the sun hurt my eyes but I could make out the curvy shape of a girl with what seemed to be the perfect body.
Summer walked towards me and smoothed my hair. She lifted my chin and kissed me slowly and softly. I leant into the kiss, amazed and scared, but wanting more. She pulled back and laughed, 'I knew it, you do love me.....I win guys!' and with that she ran from the change rooms, laughing and tossing her shining hair.
I hated her. I loved her though, still. But I went home happy that I had kissed my perfect dream girl, regardless of the circumstances. That may make me a loser, but I have a few seconds of blissful memories to keep me going and sometimes, that's all a person needs.
1
She was soft. Her lips pressed against my neck and warmth radiated from her body. I thought I felt her breast against my back for a second, but it seemed she pulled away quickly, almost as though she was nervous or scared, and unsure. if that was how she was feeling then I could totally sympathise. I was surprised I wasn’t shaking outwardly because I was definatley shaking on the inside. her hand lay softly on my shoulder and I placed mine on top of it. she was so petite, different, but yet exactly as I had imagined. her hand and mine fitted perfectly together. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her. the feeling of our skin touching was so unbelievably nice, I didn’t want to let go.
2
I picked her out of the crowd straight away. she was looking left and right, her eyes darting al over the place, searching for something familiar. neither of us had been here before, and neither of us knew what to expect. I hoped that she would be happy to see me. I mean, I knew she would but, I mean really happy. I had already ordered a coffee, and I was sitting towards the back of the room, close to the back exit, just incase I felt the need to run away. that thought neednt have crossed my mind. I wanted to hold her, I needed to be near her.
3
She was soft and warm but her touch seemed to bite and spark at my skin. Her fingers trailed down my neck, over my shoulder blade, across to the middle of my back and traced the curve of my spine. I turned to face her and she brushed my hair away from my eyes. I looked up at her, sitting with her legs tucked up underneath herself on the bed next to me. She was so warm. She radiated warmth and goodness.
I sat up, resting on my elbows and smiled at her. Her smile made me melt and as she leaned in to kiss me I couldn’t believe my luck.
She was someone I had been friends with for what seemed like years. She had something about her that I was drawn to; a magnetism. Her hand slipped under my body as she lay down beside me and she twirled the end of my hair around in her fingers.
I leant over and kissed her, the first time I had done it off my own back. Our lips touched lightly, just brushing against each other. I opened my eyes as I puled away slightly and out eyes met for a second. We both looked away suddenly and giggled.
There are only so many times you can fold a piece of paper in half, no matter the size and no matter how hard you try. And there are only so many times you can try and fix something by folding over the problems and trying to hide them before the folds are forced and it just doesn’t work anymore.
Alex and Peter had forced their relationship till the edges had frayed and the paper became soft and teared easily, almost disintegrating at a touch. Their little square ball of paper; pieces falling to the ground as if someone was sitting there, rubbing their thumb over and over it, watching the tiny, dirty scraps float down and land in an untidy pile on their polished timber floor.
It was Peter who noticed first, who realised the normally sharp, crisp edges were blurring and the straight clean lines were becoming rounded, messy and uneven. He noticed that Alex’s shoes were worn at the toe and that she hadn’t bothered to get new ones, or even polish them at least. How she had hung her shirt in the closet with only the last two buttons done up, not bothering to button it all the way up to the top and straighten out the creases.
How can she live with herself, he thought, She’s a mess.
Alex was happy. Happier than she’d been in over seven years. There was a time when she felt like this always. As if she was six again, and swinging higher and higher till her feet touched the leaves in the tree above her.
Bare feet all day long, she thought to herself, and kicked her shoes off, watching them land against the white walls and leave a small black mark… she didn’t even wince.
Peter was furious. He noticed it straight away as he walked through the door, placed his keys in the small wooden bowl they had ordered from India, and his wallet on top of his neatly stacked pile of decorating magazines. A small black mark… a scuff… about two centimetres long about 12 centimetres up from his skirting boards. He followed what he imagined would have been the flight of the object that made the mark backwards through the air and his face burned a deep red when his eyes fell on a cheap pair of sandals.
Alex, he called. He could hear her whistling.
Alex…
He was seething inside and burning outside, his fists clenched tight by his sides.
Alex…
His shoulders were rising and falling with each of his strained breaths, his chest heaving.
Alex… your shoes…
Alex was sitting on her couch, the one she’d bought from an old antique dealer in her hometown. The one that Peter had made her steam clean several times because he could still smell the musk of the old grey woman who sold it to them in the fabric.
It stinks, he had said, Get rid of it.
I will not get rid of it.
Well, at least get it cleaned again, that woman was unhealthy. I feel dirty just thinking about her.
Alex was staring at her newly painted toenails, watching the sun’s reflection in their shine. Behind her feet she could see the tall ceilings and halogen lights and when she looked ahead she saw the bottom of his coffee table. She smiled when she realised her niece had stuck a sweet to the bottom of the table, and decided to let it stay there.
Peter stormed into the room. He stared at Alex.
Turn yourself around, he ordered, I can’t talk to you when you’re upside down. What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a child.
Alex stared at the grumpy man in the doorway. He definitely looked funnier upside down, and she began to laugh.
Alex, get down from there, please, we need to talk about the walls…and your shoes, and… well your general attitude basically. There’s something very wrong happening here, can’t you see.
Alex just stared at his red face, his close set eyes and his sparse hair… He looked even more like a pig than usual today and at this thought she burst out in a fit of laughter, falling off the lounge and rolling over the rug, knocking his precious coffee table over and cracking it straight through the centre.
Alex and Peter were both very still, their mouths had fallen open and they had both fallen silent. It was Alex who broke out of her shock first.
Bah! She laughed and rolled over onto her back.
Right, that’s it. You’re insane, Peter stormed out of the room, only to return seconds later with, And clean up that mess for God’s sake, which only brought more laughter, more rolling and more happy tears pooling on their designer woolen rug.
Alex pulled herself together and sat up against the wall. She stared at the table, at its broken top, at the knots and whorls in the timber. She could sense the warmth of the wood from where she sat. She could feel it smiling, swelling with happiness at the memory of playfulness. Alex wriggled her toes in the deep pile of the rug and shut her eyes. She was swinging again, higher and higher. Holding on tight and leaning back as she rushed through the air. Through her closed eyelids her world was pink and safe and when she opened her eyes the sky seemed to catch her and cradle her in its arms. Sometimes she would let go and fly through the air, landing softly in the long grass, staining her knees green. Her mother would laugh when she came inside, and pull the loose blades of grass from her hair and give her a cuddle.
You think you can fly, don’t you Al?
Alex would nod and her mother would hold her hands tight.
You can fly Alex, you can do anything you want to do, remember that.
we crawled on our tummies through the dry, crackly grass, not bothered by the weeds that caught in our hair or the dirt that collected under our blunt nails. we had to know. not out of any need to belong, more out of our need to annoy. annoyance through knowledge. we could hear them at lunch time, rustling their chip packets, 'they know that we know they know', and we'd laugh. we'd laugh untill tears spilled down our faces and we fell to the ground clutching each other. happiness. pure happiness.
their latest secret weapon against us joining their 'elite' club was somewhat difficult for us. we found out vague details through a mutual friend. she was sympathetic to our plight, which she believed was us wanting to be one of 'them', but she enjoyed the attention too much to make it public knowledge that she was conversing with the enemy.
'look, all i can tell you guys is that it's a seven letter word starting with 'd'. she's made it so hard, it's almost impossible for you two to join....i'm sorry.' then she ran off, her little white blonde bob flicking this way and that while she scanned the quadrange for any sign she may have been seen.
we later found out that the seven letter word starting with d was develop, and she was right. our completely flat chests barred us from entry for quite a while
the girl was like something i've never seen before. seeing you for the first time is like trying out a new dancetrange till the rythym kicks in. awkward for the first part. difficult to manage it. and then he turned the page. start a new record and hold a new hand. ice in a tall glass clacking. fingers to a new beat snapping. hands to a mouth clapping short your answers. swallowing down your words.
