Maybe he left
because he got
tired of plucking
splinters out of
his fingers every
time he touched
me because of
the fence I built
around my heart.*


B.S.

When we think of "self",
We identify as
I.
Me.
Singular.
But are we really only just one person?
Is I actually plural?
There are different versions of ourselves.
Some versions we trap deep inside in cages
And some we throw on stage to perform every day.

I collected the kinetic swirls
of differing shades
in the dizzying reflections
of how you made me feel

Whirling affects
blurred in calliope sonnets
and brass ring reachings
while riding a paisley tiger

My pockets filled
with these mesmerizing emotions
sculpted of Ferris Wheel desires
and carousel dreams of you

Until suddenly colored lights flickered,
the music slipped a gear
and the ride came to a screeching halt,
with me holding on for dear life

Flung to the floor between sneaker prints
and paper cotton candy tubes
I watched you walk away with the stuffed
giraffe in your arms, it waved goodbye

While a checkerboard monkey giggled
as he emptied my pockets
leaving me with nothing
but a broken heart and a long walk home

I would paint
the whole world
your favourite colour

"You are in love. People in love smile like that."

You
Sewed
My
Heart
Back
Into
My
Chest
Just
To
Cut
Each
Stitch
One
By
One*


B.S.