i don't want to sit down and write a few words
only to delete them and then write a few new ones and then
delete them again
i don't want to go over to your house only to feel needed by you
because he broke up with you and then five days later
he wants you  back and so i'm no longer needed
delete delete
deleted
whenever you call me i watch the phone as it rings
once, twice, three times
but you don't leave a message
and i don't call you back

today i'm doing a little experiment
it's called
not feeling guilty
it's called
forgiving myself
it's called
smiling for no reason

and you're not here and i'm not sad about it
for once.

twenty one and burned out
like a cup over a candle.
"you're so young, you're too young,
you're too young to even realize how young you are."
he said to me before i went home the other night.
i laughed and tried to believe him, while trying to laugh in a way
that would display the many lives that lay within me.
i wish the world would start noticing
how looks are deceiving and hearts are receding and bodies are forgiving.
i've spent too much time living the lives of the ghosts that haunt me.
i'm exhausted from moving out and moving in,
trying different lives on like clothes that don't fit -
peering into the lives of other girls who tell me
that they are addicted to feeling accomplished and not
defeated, while i nod in silence,
then spend the entire night awake, wondering
what they mean.
i've dreamt up a million ways you could have said goodbye.
i've spent two years in the waiting room of hope,
only to be called into the office of indifference,
which happens every time i show up
to my appointments with forgiveness.
i'm still waiting to meet him.
but it's alright, my name will come up on the list
of names soon.
it's all over now and i've grown into being glad.
i learned patience the way i learned to walk.
sometimes i miss it, the way the sadness was a lifestyle,
but novelties become exhausting and boring and
so overly dramatic and annoying.
i'm still frustrated, you know.
even though i make it look easy.
being pretty is like putting on a movie you have no
intention of paying attention to.
it's easy and i don't care.
by saying that, i mean i don't need you,
the way you think i look like i do.
what i'm trying to say is, i still love you
even though admitting mistakes is not
something humans brag about very often.

i need you to call me on the phone and beg me
not to hang up
i need you to tell me you're sorry, not for all the horrible things you've done,
but for not being there when you should have been.
i know it's not all your fault, i know you're a sick woman,
but i belong to you.
i will always belong to you.

i need you to sit down with me and hold my hand and cry with me
and tell me about your past lovers and why they left you
i need you to tell me about your first kiss
i need you to tell me that being a woman is terrifying, yet empowering
and list the reasons why.
i need you to set an example.

i need you to tell me you'd do anything for me,
i need you to acknowledge that you are a liar and that
the words you use with me are almost always
meaningless.

sometimes i fantasize about one day
typing out all of the sad and angry and vicious and painful poems
i've written about you, ripping them from my
typewriter, sticking them in a tightly sealed enveloped
and leaving them in your mailbox with a note on the front that says:
"here is all that i couldn't say. goodbye."
and then getting on a plane to nowhere, anywhere
and never coming back.

i need you to be someone you are not, and perhaps
never were
maybe that's why i cling so tightly
to those pictures of you when you were 21,
because you look so
happy, beautiful, magnetic.
you look like how i'd like to remember you,
how i'd like to know you.
we were all someone different once.

i need you and i know
it's an inconvenience and for that,
i am sorry.

at least i have the photographs.

sometimes i seriously doubt
if i will ever recover
from this loss,
this bruise
from losing you.

sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night
to sweat soaked sheets and mascara-drenched pillow cases,
curled up in full fetal-position
and i think about you
and how i'm lucky that i even accomplish falling sleep
at all.

i think that's just the difference between the body and the mind -
the body won't stop contorting itself to match your
dissected heart
just because you did or did not decide to say
goodbye to someone.

and this is why i woke up with a knots like stones
inside of my back,
practically paralyzed
it's like my body is trying to punish me
for going against its
ferocious nature. all it wants
is to be back inside you.

sometimes i seriously doubt
if i will ever recover
from this loss,
this bruise
from losing you.

broken has made a cold home out of me.

slept in till noon
spent the afternoon
staring at the wall
hoping if I could sit still long enough
it would be enough time
for me to thaw
then I left for work
and slipped on the ice
i guess we won't know
what's become of us
until the winter is
finally gone

i don’t know why i’m here

it all happened so fast, i was in a daze

or perhaps a trance

my legs just kept propelling me in this direction despite

my common sense

though i’m not sure if i even have that

left

i’m sorry i stained your pillow case with mascara

i’m sorry i noticed the bottle of zopiclone sitting on your bedside

i’m sorry i wrecked your perfectly made bed

i’m sorry i’m so needy and stubborn

my legs led me here, i had no choice

i didn’t want this, i really didn’t

it’s just that sometimes i can feel my heart beating

in your chest, which would explain this unrelenting ache because

my body just can’t seem to part with it.

i’m sorry i came here expecting something from you

but i will re-make your  bed,

remove the mascara from your pillow,

and set the alarm when i leave,

leaving no trace of my self

behind, aside

from the invisible fingerprints on your piano keys.

remember the first time you got drunk
your best friend brought over a 2'6 of *****
and you drank it like it was water like you had been
stranded in a desert for 40 days and 40 nights
your parents were outside too oblivious to notice
recklessness was a contagious disease in that house
and you all had caught it sadly, willingly, restlessly
by the time 6am came around you woke up with your
best friend on your right, and a pile of puke on your left
you placed your sheets in the washing machine without rinsing
the ***** off of them first
so it was just sheets mixed with puke and water,
swishing around,
and it took you years to realize
that nothing could ever get clean
that way.

you tried at 15 by overdosing on a combination of
prescription pills your mother hoarded in her cabinet
when your mother found you on the floor,
the only thing she could do
was call you pathetic and get mad at you
for taking her pills without asking.

you tried again at 21, pills again
your brothers threw you in the backseat of their car, dragged you to
emergency, and gave you a mouthful of charcoal
before you had the chance to tell them
whether you were sorry
or not.

that was then, and this is now
and one of us are bound to die
before the other one has a chance to say
sorry
or not.
I hope you let it be
me.

For once in my life
I'm not craving you
For once in my life I'm not
Needing
Waiting for you
To say
I miss you
I love you
I need you
I want you
I'm sad come help me
How are you? Come over
You're brilliant
I'm sorry
Please, come back

For once in my life I feel understood
Even if it's by one person who lives
3,781.8 km away
Someone is better than no one
I'm understood and loved unconditionally and for once
I'm not scared
Of abandonment because I've learned
That I can only ever really truly
Abandon myself.

And actually sometimes,
What's gold
Can and will
Stay.

"You should never have set the thermostat to 'off'! Now my pipes are frozen & have no water!"

You should never have continued putting your alcoholism
Before all of your children
You should never have had to leave your job because you
Shoplifted and they let you off easy
You should have never taken away my house key because I
"Didn't deserve to have that privilege"
You should have been there for me when I told you
I wanted to die and that I needed you
You should never have asked me to lie to the one person I wholeheartedly trust
For the sake of protecting nothing & only further enabling your
Long-term delusional mind
You should have never given birth to me in the first place
If you planned on staying eighteen years old forever.

If accidentally leaving the house with freezing pipes and no water is the best way to say
*******
Without actually saying it,
Then so be it.

(Sorry I'm not sorry.)

i think there is a glitch in my mind, perhaps it's a common glitch
in other humans minds too
but this glitch somehow seems to erase
every lesson I've ever learned about how to let go of someone
i should have let go of a long time ago, the one that teaches you how
to drop all
attachments and expectations
how to be content in living without always
needing.

i learn this lesson repeatedly, i love you, i'm there for you,
i get hurt by you because you do not respect or value
me at all
because you are selfish and do not know the power
of your words and actions or
lack thereof.

so i let go of you and feel weightless and free
not needing to make sure you still love me.

but then time passes and somewhere in this timeframe,
a few days, sometimes weeks
give or take
my brain resets itself, perhaps sometime in the middle
of a nightmare
and it's like waking up
with a head full of glue
that's when i start to miss you

and miss you and miss you and want you and need you
and silently cry at random times like at work or
on the bus
and i get so weak and needy and i seem to come to the conclusion that
i cannot stand on my own two feet if you aren't there to hold
me up
and it's all a lie, but it's a repetition and it doesn't seem to get old
and it's frustrating because i cave in every time, i go
running back to you
until you hurt me again and then
the lesson is re-learned

only to be forgotten again,
repeat.

all my life you have had such power over me,
and it isn't fair,
it is no way to live
it's suffering in its purest form
and i end up punishing myself for it

note to self:
you are not the air i breathe,
even if you gave me life
even if i gave you stretch marks.

what is wrong with me?
why can't i just learn from getting hurt and not repeat
the same mistake?
why can't i just live without you
for goodness sakes?

i want to be strong, i want to wake up and not always be
craving something, someone
i want to look in the mirror and not cringe at
what i see
i want to look at the sky and not have to wonder
if you still love me
i want to rise from the ash and not be ashamed
of how other people might despise me for it.
i want to live without the need for constant validation.

i want to love myself,
i want to be whole again.

The moment you finish a good book

Is like the moment you step out of the shower

You savour it while you can

While also still knowing

That nothing lasts forever.

I guess it’s a good thing

I am a creature of a repetitive nature

So I can always go back

To good books and showers.

(While also still knowing

That nothing lasts forever.)

good morning, my angel
my living lullaby
i glide across the fairest skin, you are the fairest one
of all. Good morning, my mother
my broken candle
you gave me the wax that has melted on many tablecloths
i feel I have lost you now, as I had lost you then.
Good morning, my first love
my little bridge
your mittens were warm when I needed heat
when I was so cold the tears froze onto my cheeks.
you ran me a bath a being
of divinity
we held each other in your father’s tub and laughed
at the bubbling abundance, burgeoning in overflow.
I wake to the puddle of your memory
That has grown since we last met, since I have wept
For the love I have not kept in place. Good
morning hindered lover, who worships me in forbidden light
a thousand songs have yet transpired born
from a single thought of you.
Inhibited inspiration,
camouflage constellation, I kiss you now
though I will always be
Years away from where you lie.
Good morning dear father, a forester
Braver than the lone wolf and his
solitary howl. The lesson of the arthritic toe shows you
True appreciation for the pain of existence.
You are the most loyal flame, my gratitude is overwhelming
Each time I embrace the past and the mistakes, unconscious
From the broken record
And its echo off the wall.
Good mourning to the loss of a lover, an ephemeral flame.
Good mourning to the death of a friendship, to the longing for a ****.
Good mourning to the future in its casket,
That awaits a new life for me
In song.

Don’t bother wondering

Why I left without saying goodbye

I learn from the best, I can’t help it I’m lost

Marvel at my vacancy

I can’t help it I can’t help you

Don’t bother asking

Why I came without saying hello

I learn from the past, I can’t help it I’m sad

Notice the overflow

Of all of these feelings that don’t know where to go

If I gave them all to you,

Would you wash and fold them and

Organize them please?

Tell me which ones to keep and which ones I don’t need?

I can’t help it I don’t know where I am

There were too many signs pointing me in the wrong direction

And not enough memories reminding me not to

Follow them

I’m a good song gone wrong and you

Are a television

Draining my potential

sad lonely restless
mind weak with old thoughts that are
more like bad habits.

skinny boy, all bones
no lies, that song will always
remind me of you.

I laughed at the way
you ruined my darkness now
you're gone and smiling.

if you choose her I
will understand. My heart is
breaking regardless.

every time you look
at me my words light on fire,
i can't say a thing.

no thank you, you can
keep your presents. What I need
now is your presence.

I broke a string on
my ukulele. It’s safe
to say, I relate.

i cradle courage

while i can. By the grace of

God, I can do this.

i probably fell in love with you
the moment you asked if you could have
one of my menthol Marlboros
it's too bad
the closest i'll ever get to you was
the moment you lit your cigarette
off of mine, inches away
from my face
it's too bad
i wouldn't let you get closer
even if you tried
it's too bad
she gets to call you hers
it's too bad
i'll probably never see you again anyway.

Today my father is 50 years old.
Today I am proud to say
That I have the most
Compassionate, inspiring, healing, understanding, supportive father
I could ever ask for.

He continues to teach me what it means
To be brave,
To be motivated,
To blossom,
To be alive,
Every day.

I am so proud to call him my father
I am the luckiest girl in the world,
I really am.

Happy birthday daddy.

yes,
the devil finds work for idle hands
but he also finds thoughts for idle minds
and no matter what kind of
destructive habit we take up
it is always
the danger
that we are addicted to

the devil fills me with dangerous thoughts
when i have nothing real
to focus on

it's a scary thing to realize about yourself,
that you can not always trust
the things your mind comes up with
what doesn't seem to matter
or what seems like a good idea
at the time
usually actually does matter
and is a really bad idea
all the time
but we don't realize this until later on,
and sometimes we learn, and sometimes
it's too late.

but that's not what this poem
is about.
"too late" is too much of a tragic thing
to say,
because is it really too late?
for some, yes, i mean, i've seen it firsthand
and it isn't pretty.

but i'm not going to end up like that.
this poem is actually about how whenever my mind
feels ***** like this,
i say a little prayer and surrender to the fact
that i cannot trust myself
and so i run a steaming hot bath,
dip my whole head under the water,
and stare up at the white tiled ceiling
not thinking, not obsessing,
just breathing
this is one successful technique i use
that makes danger seem boring
and clearly unnecessary.

and so
no matter what thoughts the devil injects into my mind,
this is something i must always remember:
having a bath is better,
having a bath is better.

once when i was hurting,
i took a picture of a wall
where someone wrote in yellow letters:
all i want is healing
healing is all i want.
i looked at that wall every day
for a year
until someone painted over it
and all that was left
was the photo i had taken.

after that,
those ten words
became my secret mantra.
i would stare at those words
during hopeless nights
with nothing but myself
and a small blade i used
when the noise got too loud.

i thought a lot about
how i felt about those words -
what they really meant,
if they were the utter *******
i was beginning to believe they were,
and what my response would be
if someone ever spoke them to me
out loud.
until finally,
on one particular suffocating evening,
i carved the words
healing is difficult
on the very top of my
right thigh
and i thought, yeah
that's a pretty good
****-you
to the world and its hope
for healing.
count me out.
healing is hopeless.
healing is a myth.
healing is difficult.
and that is the truth.

it wasn't until this year,
after my scars have long since faded,
that i think back on those ten words
and know what they actually mean.

yes, i do want healing
and yes, healing is all i want.
i'm doing it right now
and i am scared
and i am shaking
but i am doing it,
i am doing it.
truth is,
i've waited for this kind of bravery
all my life.

you're like a warm sweater straight out of the dryer
you're like a Disney movie on a bad day
you're like the greatest dream of all time without
the disappointment of it not being real when i wake up
you're like the sound of applause after a terrifying performance
you're like a warm bath for an aching body
you're like looking at the sun and the moon in the same sky
you're like a million double takes
you're like the feeling of jumping through giant puddles in polka dot rain-boots
you're like the gold at the end of the rainbow
you're like a mermaid that glistens under water
you're like the first song i ever wrote
you're like puppy-kisses and newly hatched birds and scented candles and poetry
you're like holding a cup of hot chocolate while
wrapped in a blanket sitting by a hand made fire
you're the feeling of watching the first snowfall of the season
you're the feeling of getting 100% on a test without studying
you're like a quote by L.M. Montgomery
you're the feeling of watching a Mississippi thunderstorm
you're the feeling of watching the fireworks at Disney World for the first time
you're the feeling of aching abs after excessive laughter

you are my kindred spirit
may we never grow up.

the heat is turning us into
*** crazed
hazed out junkies
looking for our next fix
of some kind of switch
that will turn our power
back on just so we can sleep
in a working refrigerator
long enough to remember
what winter feels like
until we get so numb we
start biting our lips until they bleed
pleading with the grinning dentist
to inject us with reverse freezing
we’ve all got a mouthful of cavities
with all the words we can’t bear
to say
words we keep swishing around
in our mouths like mouthwash
as if it were the cure
when we all know
prevention is better than any cure
there ever was
remember when I told you that?
remember when you wrote a song about it?
it’s a song you tossed into
a wishing well as deep as my fading
desire you tossed it so quick
as if the illusion of a clean slate
would change you and your fate
I suppose it did, in a sense
you can change your life
whenever the ******* want to
and you wanted to
and you did I was just a kid
disguised as an embryo
**** **** *******
on the *** of denial
you said “babe, I know you just
wanna be on fire"
and I said yes and doused myself
in gasoline and said
"light a match" and ran
but you could never catch me
because I became
a map
just so I could prove
that all was not lost after all
you were just a teeny tiny sigh
in the cathedral-like brothel of introspection.

when we were sixteen and in love, i remember you saying
"what if hope and fear are the same thing?"
i remember feeling scared when you said that
because for the first time in my life
i had to think about
the difference but i was hopeful
i would find an answer.

when i was nineteen and hopeless, i remember him saying
"he no longer wishes to speak to you or see you ever again."
i remember laughing at first, for i thought it was a joke
but it's almost been a year now and what i've learned is
that five years of love can vanish
in a single day
and you may never get a chance
to say goodbye.

but i have scars to remember the wounds that were
self inflicted
hope and fear were the stitches that let them
heal
i'm afraid of many things but i like to think
that hope is stronger, it must be stronger
otherwise i wouldn't be here
i don't think.

constantly torn
between being here and trying to
make the best of it
and wanting to be 3,781.9 km
closer to her.
constantly torn
between not texting you back
and feeling guilty because
you’re drunk and you miss me.
constantly torn between
what I want to say
and what’s preventing me from
saying it.
constantly torn
between dipping my foot in
the ocean of freedom
and then pulling away when
the tide comes rushing in.
constantly torn between
noticing how much I remind myself
of you while also noticing
that I am nothing like you at all
and not knowing if that is good
or bad.
constantly torn between wanting
you to hold my hand every second
of every day, while also wanting
nothing more to do with you
ever again.
constantly torn between
remembering and forgetting
misplacing and replacing
trying and giving up
I’m just sad because I feel like
the word
enough
shouldn’t even exist.

whenever a boy smiles at me or looks at me for a few seconds longer than normal

or catches my eye and looks away all embarassed

or comes up to me to ask me a stupid question

or simply just stares without being embarassed

or sends me a message being like

hey how are you these days? i miss you!

i cringe because

romance is sickening and it’s just like

please

go

away

there

is

nothing

to

stare

at

so

mo­ve

along

now

stupid

boys with their butterfly filled heads trying to get close enough

for the butterflies to fly into my mouth and multiply in my belly

well nice try but

it’s not gunna happen

*sucka

your guilt trips aren't working on me anymore

there's a difference between craving support
and craving attention
there's a difference between being fragile
and actually knowing it

i am fragile
and i know it
and i respect it.

you don't respect me you just want to take all the good
and leave the bad
i used to be indifferent but i'm no longer
staying sad

for once i want what i deserve

all i want
is real love

you're still wearing a mask

I suppose I had always wanted you to give up on me

I was always testing you to see if or when you would.

Finally, you did.

But it’s not all entirely my fault - you also put yourself in the position

of the antagonizer,

of the predator and the prey.

I was always just waiting for you to pounce on yourself

accidentally thinking you were pouncing on me

but I have long since given up on

falling for your traps. I set my own and fall for my own

and that is how it has always been.

Put me in a vulnerable straightjacket and I will talk you into trying it on for yourself,

Swiftly and seductively.

Dare me to tie you to a train track for the thrill of it and I will laugh and kiss you on the forehead and whisper goodbye

as the sound of a moving train will be heard in the near distance.

Blame me for disappointing you, because taking responsibility for your own feelings

Is always hard and close to impossible.

But I will always know who disappointed who, I will always know what kind of damage we willingly caused ourselves.

I am a mermaid that has fallen out of longing for legs

The only light that guides me now is that of the moon

And her unequivocal yet ghostlike offer

Of reprieve.

Of reopening the same wound

Again and again until

It bleeds enough to satisfy my

Hungry heart in other words,

Never satisfied that’s why I’m a big fan of

Reopening the same wound

Again and again until

You’ll sit with me in sun and see me as I am

Yours as I always was until

I am enough for you to accept

As your own flesh and blood

I keep coming back because

I’m a big fan

Of not giving up

On you

to grow out my health
to grow out my self esteem
to grow out my sense of adventure
to grow out my happiness
to grow out my honesty
to grow out my bravery
to grow out my laughter
to grow out my openness
to grow out my vulnerability
to grow out my forgiveness
to grow out my potential
to grow out my inner mermaid
to grow out my trust
to grow out my creativity
to grow out my perseverance
to grow out my patience
to grow out my motivation
to grow out my willingness
to grow out my beliefs
to grow out my soul
to grow out my desire
to grow.

I’d give anything to be back
writing our names in the sand
on Pensacola beach
feeling your joy seep itself
into my body as if
it were a sponge, the tide
touching my thighs as if to wish me
a safe flight home
as if it knew that the only real home
I would ever know
would be there,
with you,
as if it knew it would be
half a year before we would be able
to embrace each other again.

There is no one in this city
I can be my whole self around
and I cannot help but feel guilty
for claiming loneliness
because there are a handful
of people I could call right now
that would come over to hold me
if I expressed my emptiness
to them. But none of them
are you and that
is the greatest
tragedy I have ever known and so
I can’t help but stay here as I am,
alone.

I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you.

i want so much to see myself through your eyes,
beautiful and unadulterated,
interesting and true.
i'm sorry i'm not that girl
i'm sorry i am so ruined
and sad
and lost
and so preoccupied with death.

i know my purpose is not to die
but i just can't get a grip
on what is real
and what is false
i want so badly to see myself through your eyes,
i'm so sorry i can't.
but what makes me worthy of your forgiveness?

i've tried so hard
i'm still trying
who knew self love would be such a challenge?
i struggle so much with finding one thing to love
about myself
every ******* day and it has exhausted me
to the point of indifference.

a friend of mine said to me today,
thank you for all of the times we have sang and laughed and played together
i began to tremble profusely upon reading
because to me, it sounded like he was saying
goodbye.
are you saying goodbye? i need to know if you're cutting me out of your life.
he said
i'm not cutting anyone out of my life. Things or people or situations
fall away on their own if they need to.
i told him how i hoped our friendship wouldn't fade away
and he said
i hope the friendship you have with yourself never fades away. It's the only one you always have. Self love will bring you everything you would ever want.
and the trembling turned into shaking and i tried but i couldn't hold still and i began
to cry and i was angry
because i knew
he was right.

i'm so sorry, i expect you to leave, i do
i expect everyone to leave
because everyone has left
and i'm always waiting for it
i don't feel as though i'm doubting anyone
but myself
because so many others have left and all i am left with
are voices that scream at me
well it was your own fault. What did you expect? No one would want to be around you. You're too sad too lost too tainted, such a drag.

and you can tell me it's all a lie
and maybe i can't see the truth, your truth
but what if it's my truth?
how many truths are there?
so then what's real and what's not?
what's true and what's false?
why did they leave and why does every embrace, smile, compliment
feel like a goodbye?

i'm sorry
i'm sorry
i just can't see it
through pure, brave, unadulterated eyes.

I don’t want to be something someone asks you about just because they don’t know any other conversation-starters.
I don’t want to be the last drag of your cigarette only for you to say “Oh well I’ll just light another one.”
I don’t want to be a suicide note you read over and over again trying to understand why you never understood me.
I don’t want to be the symbol behind your sorrow, I don’t want to be the last lilac sitting in a vase on your kitchen table watching you try to keep it alive.
I don’t want to be that song you listen to over and over trying to recreate something that you never even experienced to begin with.
I don’t want to be that picture you keep above your bed, I don’t want to be the half-eaten meal you fed to the dogs instead.
I don’t want to be compared to that thing that is killing you that I can’t control. But I am. I am. I am.
I’m sorry.

i’m sorry i wrote about you.
i’m sorry i tried to immortalize you by placing your existence
in my heart and having it bleed out in black ink.
i’m sorry i fell in love with you.
i’m sorry i made you feel inspired and desirable, when you have
someone who probably loves you very much waiting for you
every night when you get home.
i’m sorry we can’t be together.
even though you haven’t made a decision yet, the silence between us
tells me all i need to know.
you’ll choose her.
you’ll always choose her.
i’m sorry i wrote about you.
even though i’m not, really
when i say that it’s more of an apology to myself
for letting your presence completely dismantle
any idea i’ve ever had about love.
don’t pick up the pieces. leave me scattered.
this is my mess to mend.
you’re on a never-ending racetrack
with no real intention of stopping for anything, let alone
a heartless hitchhiker like me, waiting for you
to put your life on the brakes.
i get it.
i’m a meaningless distraction,
a pleasant diversion,
a secret flower you keep hidden underneath all
the things you’re too afraid to say.
i will never be more than that.
i get that now.
well i’m sorry,
but my thumb is getting tired.
from now on, i think
i’ll walk home.

I warned him, before we stepped into inferno, I warned him
I said, please
Bear with me
He said we have our wine, we'll be fine
And I looked away and forced a small half-laugh because
He didn't know how much familiarity
One statement could hold.

Fast forward and I'm sitting on your piano bench
Playing your out of tune piano
You put your head on my shoulder
And cried as I sang
Songs I mutilated from
The mould you made for me
So long ago.

Then time passed and the more belligerent  you became
The more sad I got so I stopped
Playing for you and sat at the kitchen table while you
Poured yourself more red wine and kept crying

That's when he asked if we needed time alone,
"To talk", as he worded it so
He left me alone in inferno with you
And you said nothing except
You don't understand you don't understand, you'll never
Understand but
I love you, please stay.

Then he came back and offered you a morsel
Of compassion, which you so indifferently accepted you said
I watched my mother die
I watched my brother die
I watched my father die
And I'm ******* done.

I sat there silently laughing because here I was, all this time
Trying my very hardest to die and it occurred to me
You haven't noticed and
You probably never will until
I am finally actually gone.

Intuition -

not a thought,
but a feeling.
It's the wild woman inside of me,
that keeps me strong despite
the storm.

It's a strange and sometimes subtle
truth.

It's louder
than ever before.

Maybe it started when I used to beg you to play barbies with me and you'd
Sit down for five minutes and then make up an excuse to leave.
Or maybe it started shortly after your mother died and I used to come into your room
And brush your hair back with my tiny three-year old hand and say,
"Mommy, I dusted your bedside table for you." Hoping I could maybe
Do something nice to cancel out the bad in order to get you
To stop crying and pay attention to me.  
Or perhaps it started when I used to sit at the bottom of the stairs in the dark
And listen to both of you fight for hours about nothing, wondering
If other peoples parents used words as knives.
Or perhaps it started the night of your birthday, right after your brother died
When your friends had to carry you inside the house and you were so drunk
You could hardly make out a mumble,
I had to check on you a thousand times in the night to make sure you were
Still breathing.
Or perhaps it was the time you told me about your childhood abuse,
The trauma that had never left you,
The attempted overdoses  you  made sound like you wished hadn't failed.

Or maybe there was nothing that started it, maybe
I had always had it.
Whatever word you want to fill the space of "IT" with,
Is fine by me.
Because I sure as hell can't put a finger on it.

But it's there.
It has been there for as long as I can remember.

*The presence of absence.

A winter went by
All was quelled by the cold
Your songs kept me warm
They are sad but they made me smile
We didn’t talk about
Anything then
I learned how to feel all right without really
Saying anything
Yes, there was a time when we existed
Separately
Before I even knew who
You were
That winter was one of them
It’s funny to think on oblivion I was to be
Drawn by your beautiful bulb
Touched by your tender air
A breeze whispered to me as I walked past
Embers
I burned without showing a single
Smoke signal

Those songs saved my life.

it's strange seeing
where everyone is now,

how one moment we were little babies at our desks,
trading lunches side by side,
writing love letters and getting kicked out
of class
how we truly believed in the meaning of
forever,
how we promised each other
we would stick together, like glue
after everything we knew would be over,
when the cold hands of life
would tear the hearts out of our chests
at last.

it was strange sitting across from you at that table,
with nothing but two coffee cups to symbolize
all the distance that no word could summarize,
how i listened as you filled me up
with the contents of your life that i could not
digest,
"we are buying a house together, it's so exhausting always going
back and forth, you know?"
i nodded and smiled, wondering selfishly if i would be
invited to the wedding.
coming from a family of divorce, i don't have much of a stance on weddings
but i have always found the idea of them
beautiful.

it's strange when you realize
success for you maybe different for someone else,
success for them may be a house, a car, and a high paying job
success for you may be just taking care of yourself in the way that
you give yourself something to look forward to
in order to survive another day,
in order to truly learn
to live.

and it's strange because
there comes a point where you know
two lives cannot ever be
compared.

i wish you would have told me
that you would never be ready for me to grow up
i wish you would have held me
and gently pushed my hair behind my ear and whispered;
"my love is limited."

had you warned me perhaps i would have had an easier time
admitting i was fragile
how long does fragility last?
had you told me when i was small perhaps it would have been easier
for me realize i had the power to choose
whether or not you could hurt me
that is, if it is true that we have a say
in who hurts us.
is it a choice?

i don't know, but perhaps if i knew you wouldn't be staying
in my life for the long run
i would have let go of you sooner
instead of finding myself trapped
between knowing i need to let go of you now
but hardly grasping on to understanding what that really means
at all.

I woke up this morning hitting the snooze button at least ten times and not wanting to wake up. But then I finally dragged myself out of bed and as soon as I walked upstairs I could hardly open my eyes because the sun was shining so bright.

I got ready for work, and left the house. As soon as I started walking I put on “Hey man" by Nelly Furtado and immediately started crying. Not because I’m sad, but because it occurred to me that everyday is another chance. Another chance to live, to grow, to feel the sunshine, to try and make our lives and our world a better place.

I was crying because this time last year I was not waking up thankful, I was waking up and dreading every waking moment. I was waking up and wishing I were dead.

I just can’t explain how amazing it is to wake up and feel LUCKY just to be alive. I have SO much love in my life and it is actually a miracle. This feeling of complete peace and gratefulness is so pure and beautiful and I’m writing this down so I can always remember that I felt it once. And if I felt it once, I can feel it again. Because miracles work that way. They happen a few times and then things get bad but you always remember that they will happen again. Things will be good again. And they are.
Life is good. And if it’s not good, it will get better. I am living proof.

"Hey, man, don’t look so scared
You know I’m only testing you out
Hey man, don’t look so angry
You’re real close to figuring me out

We are a part of a circle
It’s like a Mobius strip
And it goes round and round
Until it loses a link.

There’s a shadow in the sky
And it looks like rain
And **** is gonna fly once again
And I don’t want ambivalence
No more."

He was lying on the futon, watching Battlestar Galactica. I was in my nightgown sitting in his windowsill, smoking a cigarette, bored, restless & lonely. I stared out the window, looked down at the ground.

“Do you think if I fell out of your window, I would die?” I asked him.

“I don’t know if you’d die, but you would get seriously hurt that’s for sure.” He mumbled.

I took a long drag from my cigarette and looked back out the window. The street was empty and dark. The only illumination came from a single streetlight about half a block from where I was sitting. I stared at that streetlight for a long time, feeling as alone as ever. After a minute or so, I began to feel his eyes penetrate my core. I looked at him. He was all limbs spread in every direction. The flame in his eyes told me more than I wanted to know.

“Do you ever feel like a moth?” I asked him.

“In what sense?”

“I dunno, like do you ever feel like you’re always attracted to something that is out to destroy you in the end? Like no matter where you end up, you find yourself hitting the same lightbulb over and over as if it could save you… When really it will be the death of you?”

He looked at me quizzically. Electricity filled in the gaps between us.

“Why are you thinking about that?”

He reminded me of myself - always answering a question with a question.

I looked back at the streetlight and I could see the silhouettes of insects all around it.

“Oh, I was just noticing the streetlight over there and all of the bugs surrounding it. Don’t you ever feel like that though?” I asked him again.

“Well when you put it that way, I’ve always felt like that, yeah.”

“I have a book of poems that my friend Emma gave to me a while back - there’s a poem in there that reminds me of feeling like that. It’s called ‘the lesson of the moth’. I’d like to read it to you sometime.”

I took a drag from my cigarette and looked at him again. Beautiful, he was in that moment. Just lying there listening to me, I felt like I was being heard for the first time. Battlestar Galactica had then become just a fuzz of white noise. I stared at him in silence.

“What are you staring at?” I smiled.

“You.”

“Why?”

“You’re beautiful.”

I looked back at the streetlight and exhaled a long puff of smoke.

Minutes rolled by. I couldn’t bear to look at him again. I have a hard time being seen.

“Looking at you is like listening to a symphony.” He said at last.

I was caught more by the charm of how he was more absorbed by the moment of me and not the boring television series that blurred in the background, never mind the romance of what had just escaped from his mouth.

Because I knew I wasn’t the first girl he’s looked at like that, and I wouldn’t be the last.

But dammnit, he sure knew how to make my skin melt and my heart burn.

i was leaning against the wall
waiting to use the washroom
and then i looked up
and you were standing there
and a flood of joy came rushing through
the tiny cracks of my open heart,
for you were the only person i wanted to see
and the last person i thought i would ever see
in that place in that moment at that time
and i couldn’t stop hugging you
because i could see in your eyes
that you loved me, too.
Love is something that cannot be expressed simply by saying the words
"i love you" - it is in actions, often quiet ones,
that guide us toward some kind of intangible light
that we don’t know a name for other than some kind
of God. You have that effect on me, and it is a gift
to simply be in your presence. I can confidently say
that you have changed my life, and can honestly say
that you have also saved it.
I watch you
give and give and give and never run out
of love.
You make me want to grow out of my cocoon
and into
the beautiful butterfly of a woman
that you truly, beautifully, absolutely
are.
You said that i am a special girl
and i like to think that that is because
i have been touched by you.

Sweet princess of swanlike imperfection,
how darkness embarked upon you,
slowly unbuttoned your dress until you lay bare,
barely there
frozen in denial.
I am overwhelmed with the grief of having had you,
the same grief that has always been screaming
you can run but you can't hide
the same grief I have been trying to bury all my life.
I weep now, my tears
add to the puddle that once was you
and though I tried I simply could not
distract you long enough
from melting.

You
who once gave me the shirt off your back
You
who reminded me I do have a purpose in this chilling life
You
who gave me the infectious gift of endless laughter
You
who softened my heart despite my insisting it be forever hardened
You
who continues to light the candle of inspiration
You
who showered me with ceaseless honesty even when your fears of
hurting me were high and the temptation to lie was loud
You
who I will always remember as being the girl
I gave my heart to that one nineteenth september for
hearts cannot be stolen
The girl
Who showed me why love can never be lost,
Even when we lose ourselves in the afflictions of the other
We are not our afflictions.

Though I am no longer with you
for reasons as obvious as the blue of my eyes you always deemed to be true,
pieces of my heart forever remain
invisibly tattooed on your skin
the places you let me touch even when
your will to live was growing
thin.

Hardened beauty queen of exquisite genius,
do not believe what your mind tells you
the mirror will only show you
an undeserved distorted truth
that is not you, it never will be
and it never was.

I weep here now at the puddle where you lie,
I hope one day your heart will soften with
the same lightheartedness your name implies.