So I feel like it’s time to talk about what happened last week.

This is a sensitive issue. Please don’t think I’m making light of it at all; I’m still vulnerable and so are a lot of people. But this news was in the news, it is on Facebook, it’s common knowledge, or at least it should be. And it’s all I’ve really been thinking about, because at the moment, everything comes back to this one life-altering event.

On Tuesday 5th April, 2011 at approximately 8am, my housemate, a 25-year-old trainee aircraft engineer was killed in a motorbike accident on his way to college.

He was an amazing guy and we’re still all reeling from the shock. I can’t believe it was more than a week ago, to be honest. Yesterday was the funeral in Sydney; on Wednesday night I spilled my heart on the matter in a public forum via the medium of spoken word poetry.

This is that poem.



here i am

sitting in not enough memories

insomniac thoughts flittering through

thundering clouds whisper rainbows into dreams of sunlight and dancing

on knives

underneath this gathering storm which threatens violence on my somewhat ordered life

darkness is all i can see but

sunlight is all there is here


such a beautiful day


sometimes, life punches you in the guts. SUCKER! it yells and runs off, leaving you gasping and disoriented

wandering around in familiarity but not recognising a single thing

bent double


and aching

this ache in my heart used to be hope, for hope is what kept it beating

hope keeps us all breathing




for a while

frozen lungs

unable to picture anything

alone with these thoughts marching in, keeping me wondering


no words

or is it too many?


shaking hands

uncomfortable in my own skin

pounding heart

no rest for the living

anxious and frantic

my soul fraying at the edges with

nowhere to go and

no one to help


my heart so heavy now

filled with rocks called


and confusion

for this does not happen to one that we know

one of our own




frustration and

indignation for

the show got cancelled, with no warning and no reason why

leaving me with a too-small boxed set

wondering what could have been and

unsure of what to feel for

there is no formula for grief

One thought on “luke

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