Foundation

I have a wardrobe, with shiny scarfs, pretty tops, pants that flare and shoes that click.

I have too many coats and a lot of long cardigans.

I have an excess amount of boots and shoe boxes with heels too pretty to wear.

I have nail polish of every colour, eyeshadow of every darkness, sentimental pink cushions and a doona cover I’ll never go without.

I have a bedside table with a lamp and a glass of empty water.

I have 1000 pens and one favourite pen.

I have sheets of paper with forgotten words and a television and DVD player, a computer and a heater and all the movies that make me cry.

I have pyjamas for every mood and foundation that fails to hide my blemishes.

I have cover-up to solve the failures and a composure that no one can see through.

I have music to silence my quiet worries and jewelry to remember I have.

I have teddy bears with names and ornaments with fairytales.

I have poetry of a time I sometimes don’t believe existed and drawings of a dream inside my head.

I have all the material possessions that make me a normal person to the outside world.

Material possessions exist, they are real and felt and they are a way of life and a rite of passage.

They make the room exist and make an atmosphere real.

No matter how I feel or what I think I stand in a room with a floor and a roof and things to touch and hear and do.

If I don’t know who I am, I know what I own.

The stuff around us becomes our foundation for everyday.

Will the world see me without my foundation?

I left home in a whirlwind and took what I could grab.

I rebuilt my world again until I could look around and see it all exist.

I collected until I was full and then made room for more.

I ran so far from where I came that I forgot to even bleed.

I built around me the walls of existence and listened for the music to change.

I held on tight to those I kept, the ones who made it and the ones who fought.

I left a few, ran from some. But one got taken, ripped from me.

I found a soul who waited for me. We made our life together.

A family built became my tether and the walls began to fall away.

I still have pretty shoes- only on display on a high shelf.

I own way too many dresses.

I have more books than a library should and I write when the world is quiet.

My heart became full and my walls became thin, my family held tight and my soul felt loved.

The person I was became the person I am.

We don’t recognise each other but we have all the same stuff.