I fall into the long grass,

The rain assails me like shrapnel.

Into my arms you collapse and my flaming locks

desiccate your tears and scorch your cheeks.

I am the darkness that rots all living things around us;

One word from you

and your world shall be putrid, stinking mire,

dragging at our ankles, sucking us into its rancid bloated belly.

Into my arms you collapse and I take you, newborn and raw,

and I am your only comfort. My fingernails scratch away

your sin and your regret until you are no more than bleeding flesh.

Under my petticoats you find wretched love

soaked in your tears and the stench permeates your dreams.

Dreams of screaming horses and smouldering hair and

when you wake, my kisses eat your fear.

I am the goddess of suffering and

I am your salvation.

I pushed her hair back from her eyes and ran my finger along her cheek. I leaned in toward her until I could feel her warmth on my lips and whispered:

It will be alright.

Have you missed me?

More Meow Meow. I love her.

It’s over, red rover, for the forest has swallowed me whole. Leaves crackle in my ears and I can taste sap in my mouth.

Under me worms wriggle and writhe.

And at night she would clutch at her ribs and stare endlessly into the darkest corner of the room, shivering and remembering his touch. But during the day she would laugh and toss her hair and chin lifted, she would stalk the streets, a gazelle of the city, horns sharpened, hooves ready, flanks quivering.

Photo: Maroochydore, QLD.

In the morning I was visited by forest spirits, dripping grey crud from the trees, crawling forward through the dewy sludge, towards me, towards me. Craggy faces and outstretched spidery digets seeking me where I lay under bone white sheets.

Fog smothered the house; an impermeable moist membrane keeping me and the spectres close.

On the eve of my 30th I think of nothing other than the years gone by, faces passing through the gloom, words spoken. Should I have climbed that branch or the one yonder; should I not have wiped the mud from my toes?

I shiver and pull the blankets closer. Outside wraiths whisper.

In the jaws of the world I stand, pushing against her pearly whites and ignoring her lapping tongue. I can see into the distance – the band has just begun.

In my dream last night you appeared, a ghost in my memory, your creased hands clasping mine, and as we walked through the garden you stooped and plucked a little pink bud and held it up to me and said: “This is a fairy toothbrush – watch your step, this is a magic place.”

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You’re so fuckin’ special

But I’m a creep,
I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doin’ here?
I don’t belong here

I don’t care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I’m not around
You’re so fuckin’ special
I wish I was special

But I’m a creep
I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doin’ here?”
- Radiohead