Written by Becky Croy
Ever feel like a piece of spotted banana bread,
Moulding from the inside out?
Calming cactus—it doesn’t take much,
Just a drop or two in the summer.
Crazy succulent Mama!
Baby-blush filter on Instagram,
Posing with your new greenish friends.
You got a rescue?
I’m ashamed to tell you,
I bought mine eleven years ago from a pet shop.
The guilt sings out when people ask about him.
Poor old bugger can’t connect to his roots.
Not part of a painted wolf pack,
Just a wonderer with howling dreams.
Reduced to waxy ears and medicated foot baths—
Careful around his joints!
Sill a feisty little bugger,
Devouring any remorse I had left.
You stopped drinking when you go out?
All my boxed wine sits at home after a long day,
I’ll drink that shit—right out of the bag.
But you’re right, better to go without I suppose.
Wine gives you dark circles and spots.
Just weed now, you say? On your nights out?
Drinking iced coffee gives me spots,
I only have it once a week or so—my skin is a cry-baby.
My pores absorb caffeine like a good book.
I sit in cafes too much, coating my words with latte froth.
You’re seeing a therapist for that?
The crumbs of avo toast stick to my teeth, ‘I’m here for you.’
My words sound about as real as your eyelashes.
Your shout—what are we celebrating?
How about that small twinkle in your eyes,
When you see right through me?
Becky is a Melbourne-based writer, editor and musician. A recent Deakin University Bachelor of Arts graduate, she is currently studying a Graduate Certificate of Environmental Management to keep herself occupied during 2020. When she is not busy reading gloomy environmental journal articles, she potters around creating cheesy song lyrics in her head, occasionally writing them down. You can see more of her poetry on Instagram @rebbebies