Shivering with cold
on my morning walk
in a Canberra fog.

It is less than a week
until my birthday;
another diary page;

the magic of words,
that voice in my head,
soundtrack to my footsteps.

Yesterday it was dark,
eyes staring at nothing
but the morning silence;

tomorrow will be better,
he won’t hit me ever again,
choking my emotions;

today, a song in my ears
reaches into my heart,
where it is impossible.

I don’t know what it means
to fall in love with you,
but I could be a fool;

tonight, sheets crumpled,
slowly undressing
fingers on the keyboard;

what happens next
between a man and a woman
could make me cry;

but the radio tells me
to have a little patience,
waiting for your warmth.


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