Dust settles in your room,
Untouched by time, like a still image
Your being woven into the corners
Yourself, littered in the paper scattered on the desk

The summer outside is roaring
Your fan should have been humming
But I can only hear the cicadas scream
Over your excitement,

December 16th, circled,
Bright red pen,
WINTER BALL!
You never got there.

Everday, I make your favourite meals
Play your favourite movies
Whisper goodnight to your name
Hoping that you would sit beside me, sleep beside me, be near me

And I ache,
and I ache,
and ache
For it is empty everytime the moment passes

And everyone says it's been years
and I should let go
That you would want me to move on with my life
That you will live on through my memories

Forget to mention that they've forgotten your voice
That they've forgotten you put chips in your sandwiches for "the crunch"
and if you live on through my memories,
how could I ever let you go?

If your laughter sits in my heart,
and the twinkle in your eyes are imprinted in my mind
How could I ever fill it with anything else
without losing you?

Dust settles in your room,
and the smell of your perfume
is fading
from your clothes

I find myself here again,
Listening to your song,
Several millenniums stretched and folded into each other
I melt into my ancestors

The wind whispers a calming promise
A ballad to those who will listen
The trees rustle with song with the touch of the wind
My heart, chasing the drums of the sea

I am a quiet listener
to mother nature's orchestra
Howls, chirps, pitter pattering of feet
The world sings with her

And we are reminded,
We are small and alone,
but her gentle voice
sings growth into us

What is in a name?
An identifier. Christine. Paul. Bernard.
A sense of uniqueness. Foxy. The Rock. Buddy.
A personality. John. Chad. Karen.
A name is something to hold onto.

What is my name?
A label to keep me concrete when people forget
A phrase to pull me back down when I drift
An identity so that I don't mold into everyone else
My name keeps me together

But what does my name sound like?
I forgot where I placed my strengths
I forgot the way it was shaped to my body
My person slips away from the letters as they form into your mouth
and get lost in the bottomless sea of identifiers

Who am I?
Billboards and signs that paint "fragile" across a face like mine
Small, petite, figures that whisper "prey" and warn me of the big bad wolves
Unfamiliar faces that tell me that I am "too much" as my bones grind against them and their hands try to cup me smaller
there is nothing to keep me from vanishing

Who am I?
Worker # 187, making a dime as they make a dollar?
A father's daughter, a person to be handed and never to stand on it's own?
Am I my weakest moments?
Am I my triumphs?

Who am I?
My own mocking voice screaming, giggling, obscenities before I catch myself
My own motherly tone re-directing me from the bad roots in my childhood
I am this thing and then I am another
We are so inconsistent, as people

We forget to keep our names close to our hearts
To choose our own identities,
let ourselves remind each other that we are
who we choose to be.

My name, it echoes against the cages of my body
and it wraps around me
reassuring me, reminding me, piecing me back together
breathing life back into me.

I stand before you
my pieces put together in shapes
that do not cut when you get close
edges turned onto myself

press your lights against my chest
the coloured pieces of my hurt
shine in a mosaic
"you are so fragile, love"
"let me take care of you"

My eyes are closed
and I let myself be swallowed
into your words
they are cold but embracing
possessive and enveloping

Cradled and helpless
my pieces shift for the mold you've made
you tell me my pain is beautiful
and I let you eat my pieces up
until there is no more of me

and there I am, an empty shell
looking to be filled
seeking for the hands
and hoping they give me back

I don't know who I am without you.

They say,
there are too many hands on my body
my love does not exist between hushed lips
my heart is empty,
it is swallowed by temptation

They say,
the fathers look down on me
my temple is not holy
my hands they stray too far,
they tremble before desire
they've never seen a temple like mine.

Read the scriptures on the walls
it rolls from my arms to my wrists,
it's scrawled on the curves of my shoulders
my thighs are covered in stories, in cries
my skin holds insecurity beyond words can describe

Feel the aching of my soul
my back is a canvas that holds memories
my heart, a worn down home, it hopes for fire
my hands know only the cold
I am a lost animal seeking shelter,

Drink the nectar of my growth
the depth of the abyss that I've climbed out of
the bittersweet pulp of the hands of man
Feel the warmth on your lips as it drips
I am an ongoing project

They say,
I'm too lost in youth
They don't understand,
history lies inside these walls

All he ever wanted was the moon
But I couldn't even get him a single star
So now that he's with you,
I only wish you take him home
to the cosmos