So unclear, some find it
Nuclear!

Give me someone
Who I want to write about
Every single day
Every week
Every month
Deserving of a book
A syllabus of poetry
A bound book of affection
And use this account as a monument
Of unspoken words and feelings
I'll never tell her
Not one word
Not until its most important
Not until it's full
Not until she would need a lifetime
To read it all
Not until it's love
So when she finds it
She checks it
Every month
Every week
Every single day
In a state
Of constant update
A feeling never unwritten
A thought never undeclared
Give me someone
I want to write about

Breathe out. Breathe in.
Ideas high-strung,
out of your grasp,
in crossbars above.
Find a topic—
Angst, grief, fantasy, love.
Reach. Stretch.
Contort your body into long and thin.
Breathe out. Breathe in.

Live to standards man has set.
Emotions. Thoughts. Blood. Sweat.
Fealings on paper, sealed in ink.
But no words to connect and link.

Dig deep into the corners of your mind.
Find the place where it's just instinct.
No hearing.
No sight.
Become deaf.
Become blind.
No mental thought.

And write. Just write, about the expression you sought.

Hurry up, dearest poet.
The deadline? Tonight.
Pick up your poetry and write. Just write.

She sticks to your skin like sleep on leather
She's potent as gin and light as a feather
She's spending the night in your temporal lobe
She'll dance in your head, in her sequin robe

A craftsman of fantasy
Your minds beautiful synergy
She's a brainwave
****** electricity

She makes cave paintings on bones
Her pictures mystic and unknown
So much like primitive nature
Running over with every tone

Your mind is domicle to her
Your mind is canvas to her
She grows like wanted weeds, like the clung dirt on seeds
She crawls the minds walls, She's vines all in a sprawl

She's your minds mistress
Making mental mischief
Thoughts you have are her's through you
She's there like glue to intrigue you

I saw you in Tim Hortons for the first time in three years.
You told me I had grown and
I congratulated on you on your weight loss.


She is my best friend.
You didn't raise a child,
You raised an ironwork frame.
You threw a girl into reality before she could even spell the word.

And I would love to look at the other side, but I can't—
it always loops back around like that little girl
doing circles around on her ten-speed as she pulls up
to the convenience store to buy you cigarettes.

Hey, at least you called her an ambulance—
On Thanksgiving Day when she passed out
from lack of nutrition because you spent your last welfare check
on something I don't even want to hear your excuse for.

I remember my mother, coming into my room at eleven pm on a Wednesday, telling me to put some shoes on because you snapped a pool cue and placed it to a guy's neck.

My pajama pants ripped as I broke into your apartment to wake my best friend up and tell her that my mom was parked outside and she had to spend the night at my house.

You spent the night in the drunk tank hitting on officers.
She spent the night beside me crying and asking for any other mother but you.

We were in grade 6.

When she was 13, she had to live with me for 3 months because social services deemed you, "unstable."
When she was 14, she moved away to the city because she couldn't handle you anymore.

I went to visit her last weekend and she didn't say a single word about you.

The door that someone opened
The door that someone closed
The chair on which someone sat down
The cat that someone petted
The fruit that someone bit into
The letter that someone read
The chair that someone tipped over
The door that someone opened
The road where someone is still running
The woods that someone crossed running
The river in which someone jumped
The hospital where someone died.

I live in the shadows not reassuring my pain only knowing there is no fear only expecting for the night to go on so sheer you take it on as fun yet you have no idea when it ends you take it on so clearly in the end but you don't want it to begin you had fun when it lasted but you die as soon as fun cries away and its blasted as soon as the soul leaves for the taking take away your hand and leave it among the ones that lasted only to make sure that you are the only thats' lasted but you only want one thing and thats sure to be blasted