patterns
echoes
come back to me like a boomerang

I haven’t seen you in clarity
in a long time

a horse race track
and I am galloping, number 9,
with blinders on the sides of my eyes

running to run, not
running to win, just
running for running
away

I thirst for distance, yet
recognition
it’s easy to take one step too far away
it’s not easy to stay
it’s easy to regret anything

still, maybe I am barefoot at your door
when the neighbourhood is asleep
I dreamt you and my best friend fell in love
and she didn’t know about us
you drank lemonade and held hands
a perfect summer romance

I haven’t seen you in so long
but I saw you last week

your name is famous
to an ice rink,
to the sky I spoke to today
it echoes, even in a field

or perhaps
just in my head
brain, batting its lashes
at your name

it echoes all the same

blue
the colour is always blue
when I want something
when Father won’t answer me
my pillow

my curtains, but they’re swept to the sides and the blinds are up
the sky is white
I’ve never seen the sky so white
it looks sick
the branches look violent, like they are deprived of attention
everything looks sick

that tree I can see, means so much to me
when I feel something, I pretend it is feeling the same thing
like impatient the other day, it must’ve been too
with no leaves come past springtime
it makes me blue

the colour is always blue
when I’m in love
blankets
sometimes my eyes
when I ask Father to dinner tonight or lunch tomorrow and he replies
“maybe Wednesday, not sure”
blue is the cover of the book of poetry I had written
and abandoned
blue is sadness
blue is the colour of giving up
sometimes hope

blue is the colour of people’s hair in my nightmares, when I get so frustrated their hair isn’t brown or blonde and I try so hard to change it,
it’s always going to be blue
and I wake up from thinking too much

most of my wardrobe
polkadots and stripes
shades on my canvases
I use blue
like it’s mine
like it’s me

my favourite colour is blue
it has always been blue

the sun oozed under my eyelids until I couldn’t keep them shut any longer

I laid there and heard the silence of my house in the morning

there were birds and they sung songs that made me feel heartsick

I didn’t have a hangover

Sam told me, in the most nonchalant way, that he spoke about me to someone I deeply admire and they like my music

first time I watched Tangled and I wanted to punch the mother in the face but I couldn’t because she is a cartoon

Lyra and I both had tender tummies and painted our nails like a rainbow

baths are beginning to feed into my sick games of numbing myself

blatant malnourishment

brash abandon of my self-worth  

my mind wobbled over to the fact that someone I deeply admire likes my music and that I must be more noticeable than I think I am

maybe that’s not true though

I swear my dog died about ten times today

I am a plant and this couch is my ***

Am I noticeable?

when I eat too much and feel bloated, I just pretend that I’m pregnant and sometimes even talk to my stomach as if there was a fetus inside of it

I don't think many people do those kinds of things when they're alone

a french accent is beginning to fit me better than an english one, like finding an old dress in a closet and surprising yourself in the mirror

I talked to myself all day because - loneliness

have you heard the wind stirring like a whisk in a bowl of raw egg
there isn’t one chief direction it blows
it’s everywhere
over roof tops, through each blade of grass, leaves, your hair, your skirt, your skin hurts
cold
blush bitten
soft to scraped
there is this murmuring noise that is too difficult to block out
because it stops - all of a sudden
then begins again
with no real rhythm
like a pulsating addiction
trying to get your attention
it’s me
it’s me
it’s me!
why aren’t you listening?
why won’t you look at me?
hello?
I’m still here
I’m still here
I’m still here!
why are you leaving?
where are you going?
hello?
it’s me
why are you ignoring me?
I’ll snap this tree and shatter your window
I’ll cut the telephone pole wires
I’ll crack cement deep enough for you to trip in
what do I have to do for you to notice me?
hello!
it’s me
it’s me
it’s me!

knew the other
like we knew the sky
I was often rainy grey
you were often the perfect summer day

made love
on three different occasions
in total, five times
it was kept secret
the last time was more remarkable
than any other intimate night

surrendered ourselves
to fate

will never stop loving each other
even when I hate
all that exists

are timelessly compatible
but it wouldn’t make sense
and it’s not the time for that
though we are timeless

are nothing
together
and everything  
because of it

will see each other again
probably in a new country
a new continent
that is almost a fact to me

will never stop loving each other
that is a fact to me

there are loose leaves
at the bottom of my teacup
I rarely finish drinking the thing
- instead I stare through the dark transparent liquid
at barely-floating twiggy tea leaves that
escaped from the bag
I am forgetful
and unforgiving of myself
I am too easily entranced by
lights and thin branches that dance above muddy grass
my eyes see things breathe
like marbled floors and brick buildings
I am so enraptured by rabbit fur
and tree bark
rabbits prance along the neighbourhoods
and I love the game of seeing how close I can get to them
before they leap away

when I think of bliss,
I think of not knowing what is coming next
more even, not caring

when I think of bliss,
I think of running after rabbits
or petting a tree
I do these things when no one’s looking
so no one catches the crazy in me

there are loose coffee grounds
at the bottom of my mug
caffeine kills me
and I love the taste
of the cruelty
but my body is hurting
again
like last year
where fainting and falling and confusing my words in conversation
arose every time I felt an anxious feeling
nudge its way in deeper
maybe it’s just way of giving up
my body surrendering in complete so that I feel full effect
of how badly I’ve treated it
it’s hurting again
so much that sometimes I can barely get out of bed
or get off the bus
and walk the trek home in the nippy night

I see rabbits prance along the neighbourhoods
and oh look, I am repeating myself
again
I hardly notice because my head is hurting
like there are a million and one hurricanes
inside of it
less of a crash and more like a rush
there is a difference between headaches
and light headedness
both hurt though
still I’m ashamed I’m lightheaded all the time
there is a weakness in it
that only frail people can relate to,
the scatterbrains, the unconcentrated, the anorexics, the cancer patients
the sick-of-some-sort
what am I?

I’ll see you when my pockets fill
with money and boredom and love that spills
out, flooding streets,
roads, fields, highways, sky
there’s endless width and length
and space that spreads so far
between two hearts that never blink when
eyes are clear and mouths make smiles
between us,
two hearts that met in perfect age
in date, in term, in season, in phase
I guess,
it’s up to loss,
I guess, it’s up to luck
maybe to the extent of giving up
or, I hope,
to the extent of dedication
not so firm, just light
like effortless rays of delight
and stars and space and the milky way
- it’s honest to say
I want to see you yesterday

I’ll see you if a wish comes true
I’ll make your bed and lay with you
sunsets **** worthlessness in the summertime
and nighttime is my favourite here
the moon and I made friends last year
I’ll introduce you to Her Majesty, I’ll introduce you to
our River Valley
my fingers crave your shoulder blades
the muscles,
warmth,
squishy skin I love to hold
and if you saw the bunnies hop, your mouth would drop,
your eyes would pop

my goodness, I’m losing my sense of strength
I’m so used to telling myself I need the restraint
all the time
my god, all the time
from glory & cheer & bliss
and most of all, waning to kiss and kiss
and kiss you
it hurts to want so much, so bad
it hurts to want what I can’t have

my hopes take a swim like
flags in the wind
there’s not one real thing that tells me
you love me
I say this because I’m not sure if intuition
is real
I think we just like to make things up to feel
wanted or worth it
or divine, even just a little bit
there’s not one real thing that tells me
I love you
but this scope of time and distance
tells me our version of the word
"us"
has no ambit
there is no measure
no limit
and sun is just as great as us,
and we are just as great as air
it’s impossible to express
because what we have is so rare