I remember when we had nothing but each other and we could laugh about anything while lying down together on our single bed.
Melbourne
Gray
Once I was pink, everyone looked and longed,
they got closer, prodded and poked.
Then I was red, every angle, greedy hands taking,
not giving back and,
each piece of me torn saw the red fade away.
Now I am gray, no one wants gray.
Pink shimmers in the distance.
Oh look, they’ve all run away.
Collapse
There are skeletons eating hamburgers talking about marriage and the company. They have translucent, milky white skin and are draped in chiffon cake clothing.
She is being told by the television that her partner will cheat on her and she will need to work on forgiving that kind of behaviour because it’s inevitable.
After revealing he is 175 centimeters and 60 kilograms being told by a friend that he is in fact a bit on the large side. It’s such a waste, your face is so handsome but your body doesn’t match!
See you again means never see you again.
She gets violently drunk at a social gathering and vomits mainly liquid with the few pieces of lettuce she had over the course of dinner. She doesn’t want to get any bigger because the guys won’t like it.
They ask him everyday why he’s single because he’s such a catch. They just don’t get it.
Crammed into a train carriage with hundreds of sad faces and empty eyes.
They have so many things they want to do but their heads are foggy and they can’t get up.
Bound by rules, upholding them when they are watching but breaking them when we are anonymous.
She has collapsed against some cold, beautiful skyscraper, crying and vomiting because she did everything like they said and she’s still unhappy.
Even though it’s a Saturday night and tomorrow is his one day off, he can’t stand the thought of a another week. On the edge of that train platform with the blinding light of a rapid train approaching he closes his eyes and falls into the light.
Dad
After ranting all day about how lonely I felt, Mum had gone out with the girls from work and it was just Dad and me at home and he said he would take me out for dinner.
Part of me wanted to say no and keep wallowing in my own self pity but then I sensed that Dad needed this just as much as I did, maybe even more.
We walked down to Woodstock nearby, my arm linked with his as he tapped his cane along the pavement talking about everything that came to our minds. Walks with Dad are like some kind of lucid conversation; ideas, stories and the odd revelation.
And just like that there we were, father and son sitting at the bar picking at a salumi and cheese plate when he says, “Well, I’m not your boyfriend but I can still take you out to dinner you know?”
My eyes start to sting and my vision is blurred with the tears welling up but I can still make out that Dad is looking at no direction in particular as he pops an olive into his mouth, the same way he does when he thinks Mum doesn’t see him sneak another piece of bread during dinner every night.
I try to distract myself and stuff a piece of prosciutto into my mouth and swallow without chewing. It hurts to swallow and I manage to get out a thank you.
“This area is buzzing! It was never like this when you were a little tacker. Did you know the tram used to run up to Windy Hill?” The moment had passed and we were onto the next topic.
“Yeah, I remember seeing the tracks when I was little, but it was kind of pointless because it was only a few hundred metres.” I said as I put my arm on his shoulder.
Urban Solitude 