Quote Of The Day 04/11/2019

MONDAY, 04/11/2019:

Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/722968546411412264/

‘Embrace your inner lunatic. Fun times guaranteed.’

– Derek Landy

Quote Of The Day 28/10/2019

MONDAY, 28/10/2019:

Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/391250286376840612/

‘There is no remedy for love but to love more.’

– Henry David Thoreau

The Second Hand On The Clock.

A poem.


the second hand on the clock

ticks with every passing moment

and with every tick,

my heart flies into my throat

beating through my chest

begging to escape.


i anxiously check my pockets

over and over again


‘phone, wallet, keys’

even though i know

they’re there.


my fingernails are bleeding

from the nervous picking

that i don’t notice

until they’re sore

and red raw

staining my sleeves with red dots.


the pent-up, nervous energy

makes my foot tap.

until it aches

all the way up my leg,

but i can’t stop –

it keeps time with the clock.


the thoughts in my head

bounce from one imminent disaster

to the next,

as my eyes flit around the room

nervously waiting

checking for exits i don’t need.


from my first waking moment,

i’m on edge,

questioning, waiting,

wishing away

this debilitating

sense of anxiety.


my mind is buzzing

my ears are ringing,

the clock is ticking,

and i wonder what it would be like

to live a day

with silence in my mind.





Lungs Filled With Cement.

A poem.

There are so many things that I want to say, and yet, most of the time, nothing comes from my mouth but a wry smile.

How am I meant to say the things I desperately want to, without revealing how incredibly broken I am?

I watch you all day, think about you, talk to you. And yet the things that I so desperately want to scream, are stuck inside my lungs, weighing me down like cement, instead of air.

I want you to look into my eyes and understand, so I don’t have to say the things I feel. I want you to hold my hand, until I don’t have a reason to let go. I want you to hold me together, because I feel like I’m falling apart.

I know you can see the flicker of what’s haunting me, behind my eyes. I know you can sense the things I don’t say.

Look closer. Believe me when I say I want to tell you. But understand me when I say I can’t.

Because my lungs are filled with cement.

And the more I gasp for air, the harder the cement sets. The heavier I feel. The harder it is to let the words escape.