Mayhem Literary Journal is proudly sponsored by Te Whare Wananga o Waikato, The University of Waikato

Mickey to Tiki Tu Meke - Rebecca Tegan

And there you are,
a fragmented acid trip
on this woven flax stage

a reminder
a taunt
a lick of what you tell me I’ll never be without you

we are one, but five funerals apart

you flick words at me;
Why        aren’t  you        more    like        my mother?

I was born in ’97.


Eyes ahead
talk through teeth
smile bitch

the image lies
we only do this at night;

lights out
under cover
limit yourself; two positions
there will be no foreplay

These are the rules for sexual relati...

Did you just           cum?

Roll back to my side of the page
you let me down
I take you down
leave you ignored against the wall
with your strict lines

Cause me… I’m a fucking Van Gogh
I want to dive into your glossed skin
while eating yellow paint off a spoon
I love to love
but I don’t love you

somewhere in the middle
we became one

sleep no touch
lips                cold
whiteness surrounds the red lines
scribble confuses the punters that this
is a happy home

I want to smear you
Stubborn bastard,
move me out of these rigid lines
Shift you around the room
will, I see another point of view?

The light falls
transparent and chipped

I’m not welcome here anymore
I’m a slurred fucking bitch
six whiskeys every night to put up with my shit
I’m a girl on her knees who removed your comatose shoes
left the water on your bed side table
I’m an embarrassment who’s needed in the kitchen
A fire mouth liability
till you return to a thick sleep

You are an emotional brick

I’m sorry?
 

You don’t get to talk
and I’m done listening to the silence
We have no arms to stretch this distance
 

I’m gunna cash in my chips, bet on the change in me

‘cause all that remains is you with your cult following
and me with my culture, my whanau, my aroha

I spit you out of me
Let you         drip
                     drip
                     drip off my tongue

You say -
Good girlfriends swallow

Dear Amy - Rebecca Tegan

You got 364 days on the guest list;

be a freak show in the coven of
twenty plus seven

You could be home with a speedball
and Blake;
the lover of your money and you

But you carved the bottle to a shank,
it coaxes you,
play the strings beside Jimi,
get loaded with the man who once said:

Nobody dies a virgin,
life fucks us all.

Did you ever hear the preachers?
If you just came to the lord

Sing I repent, I repent

We are all healed from the paper you gave for
a collapsed vein cured with black oil
See the light flicker fast before the fall

What happened Winehouse,
did you find the high?
Grasp peace that was paid for with 21 grams?

You went somewhere
but it wasn’t to a chiller

Lowered down a roof top window, into
A macabre room,
like you fought some unholy war
for five too many vodkas and  
an everlasting packet of camels

I don’t believe your smile
Not because someone painted it on wrong
I see you in the faded beige
what you were below the loud
And I’m the one smiling and you’re the one drowning
You choked on the palpitations of a heart
faded to black
To be a little girl who stood for…

Oh well, we can’t save them all

Contributor's Note

Rebecca hasn’t left the house in days because she is scared of people and being watched by ducks. Currently she’s eating olives in bed. Mixed colours drowned in oil, lemon and herbs. She never cooks and spends too much time selecting deli meats while ordering her groceries online.

 

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