I'm an impostor
dressed in someone else's clothes 
as I rifle through her wardrobe

I wonder who the hell she really was

And everyone who knew her
says they know me
and they confuse the two of us
for each other

And as soon as they open their mouths
to utter those fateful words
they condemn me to living
that girl's life 

And I beat against the glass
a moth ineffectually trying
to find a way out
a way out of that room

A room that should be comforting
and familiar
but has become alien nonetheless

A life that goes on around me
whether I want it to or not
sucked into that maelstrom
drawn inexorably back into the mundane

And the bars of gold that imprison me
have lost their allure
and I can't find anyone
anyone
who seems to care
that I'm an impostor
dressed in someone else's clothes

Flashback to my first book of poetry, Defenestration, published in 1997. Now back in print.

~~~

My childhood dream of becoming a writer never died. Unliketheone where I was a paediatrician and cured all the sick children. I eventually figured out I wasn’t dedicated enough to spend all my time studying. There was too much life to experience! However, my dream of becoming a published author with my name on the cover of a book survived. I’ve always wanted to be able to go into a bookshop and see my name on the shelves.

When I lived in Canberra I did an evening class after work at the local college. The course was called ‘Getting Published' and the teacher was Stephen Matthews. Stephen had worked in the book world and had just stared Ginninderra Press, his independent publishing company. By doing the course I discovered it was almost impossible to get published by a publishing house. Still very true today but luckily it's much easier to find an audience as an author. Thank you internet!