he will never love you
the way i can

the way we talk
we know each other better in under a month
than you two
in seventeen
our souls are intertwined tighter
than he can ever hope to hold you

his love is shallow
i am the Marianas
if he is the sea
i am the Pacific in all its entirety

in his banks you can barely dip your feet
you can sink ships in mine
he can kiss your lips
but **** it

so can i

he can hold your hand
but can he hold a conversation

he loves you under a veil
i’d love you on a stage
he loves you with his skin
i love you with everything i have

he loves the way you look and feel
i love the way you think
you speak
you laugh
you love
and everything in between

he will never love you
the way i do

does he know about your mother
why the ink is on your skin
does he really know
what you keep within

does he love you past the tips of his fingers
or the palms of his hands
does his love extend past the reach of his arms

does he love you when he can’t hold you

he loves you like brushing his teeth
or getting a bagel at the bakery across the street

he loves you like his thursday evening tv schedule
or how he waves to his neighbours on their porch

he loves you like the way he dots his “i”s
and how he never forgets to cuff his jeans

he loves you
like a routine

he loves you like the scent of his sheets
or the way the couch sinks in the only spot he likes to sit
he loves you like the way your name rolls off his tongue

he loves you
only because he’s used to it

he loves you like his favourite watch
or tie

he loves you like the mug he puts coffee in
or the pen he likes to write with

he doesn't love you
he prefers you

i will never love you
the way he does


despite being separated
by skyscrapers and apartment buildings
miles of asphalt
brick walls and chain link fences
sheets and clothes
in between us
we felt so close
by knowing its the same sky
we were both looking at that night
and nothing can stand in the way of that

i know by the look in your eyes
the way you ever so softly speak
the way your letters form into words
into sentences
into paragraphs
into poetry

that you will never love him
the way you love me

at age three, my preschool teacher told me,
"Some ships are admired for their beauty,
and such ships will sink.
Ships that are functional,
however,
will never be admired as the other ships are.
I think you have the perfect mix of
beauty and functionality."
since age three,
both my beauty and functionality
have dropped dramatically to depths never explored
by this species.
i am a mess,
too much hate runs through these veins
and somehow i am a very angry person.
but i have a talent very few possess.
i have vision.
not beauty.
not functionality.
vision.
i can see things in ways they have not been construed.
i look at a passage and see twenty different ways to interpret it.
i am a master of metaphors.
i see a flower and see what it was and what it is and what it will be.
but what happens to the ship that is not sat at docks being fawned over,
or the ship that is not the fastest?
what happens to the ship that can see the best possible path?
does it get to its destination quicker?
or does it go off track because of the amazing beauty it's chasing.
what happens to such ships?

dear ---
I am not pretty.
I am not smart.
I am not worth it.
I am not poetic.
I am not perfect.
I am not good enough.
******* for making me feel like I was.

they sat at the second table from the left.
four girls; one with curly hair to her knees, one with a heart for running, and two who love basketball.
I tried to fit in.
I failed.
a poet is not a dancer.
a poet is not a runner.
a poet is not a basketball player.
a poet is a poet.
I hated this table.
it gave me chills.
I walk past the table, because they cannot hurt what isn't in their reach.

him-                                                                                her-
smug                                                                              content
artist                                                                               writer
excited                                                                            lazy
music maker                                                                  music listener
caring                                                                             apathetic
midnight kisses                                                              midnight calls
skipped practices                                                           skipped dates
large appetite                                                                 large body
small body                                                                     small appetite
the nbhd                                                                        the neighbourhood
instagram                                                                      youtube
mine                                                                               hers

i had forgotten your laugh.
i had forgotten your smile.
i had forgotten your eyes.
i had forgotten the way you whispered on the phone.
i had forgotten the way you hated your thigh.
i had forgotten Sam and Alex.
i had forgotten how you giggled when i cried.
i had forgotten why you giggled when i cried.
i had forgotten the nights i didn't like myself.
i had forgotten your favorite color.
i had forgotten how big your ambitions were.
i had forgotten it all.
but i will never forget the color of your hair.

colour and crashes
big eyes and lashes
this is you in mourning.

white latex gloves
white flying doves
this is you today.

careful breathes
careless lefts
this is you without.

bright flowy skirt
a smile that can flirt
this is you with him.

big perfect grin
crying over him
this is you at your finest.

smoke in the air
thick curly hair
this is you and me.