Imagine alienation
Imagine a bonding process of
23 years of lies,
Of 23 years of guilt
Of being estranged
Of trying to let go …
Of wanting to but …

Imagine being 12
Of being home and sick
And have someone who you trust
Or someone who you think you trust …
Imagine not being able to tell,
Of wanting to
But you have no one to tell

Hey where are all the social workers,
When you need them,
Or when you think you do.

Imagine being 13,
Coming home from boarding school
To care for a person
Called mum who has once again collapsed
Too much booze,
Too much mental torture
Too much, too much, too much

Try being 14 and look out
Your lounge room window,
It’s dark now but someone who you love,
Or someone who you think you love
Is gardening
Imagine gardening at 9 pm
What is her fascination
With the gladiolies, the daffodils,
Those beautiful blue, pink and purple petunias

Oh that’s right there’s beer cans
Strategically placed in different
Sections of our beautiful beautifully
Manicured flower beds.

They say flowers grow for beauty
No, not for me
Flowers grow to hide

The inability to cope
Too much, too much, too much

Forget forget forget
As much as I try
I cannot, there must be
Some reason, some reason
Why so many, so many
Kooris, Noongahs, Mumes, Nungas,
Go through
The nightmare

Why, why, why
I don’t know why
All I know is here I am at 23, 24 at
26, 36 and 46
If I live that long
I’m wondering, searching, questioning
I don’t know why
Should it matter, I’m one
Of the lucky ones

A suitcase full of mould
Contains those few precious memories
Of my years, without my people
The photos
The children’s books
A painting of a lighthouse I drew at 12

Short sharp memories
A collection of
My life which,
If I could have a child
If I wanted to, I would
Give to them

Hey tell us about
Your life growing up

A suitcase full of mould
Is my childhood
A suitcase full of mould
A suitcase full of mould

First published in Overland 144—1996