I.
you never saw me in winter:
shearling fur and kettlebell boots
my outer crust cracking from one step outdoors.

I wear socks to bed
and smoke Belmonts to cover
my breath with toxins
instead of you.

II.
I never wear pants when I’m with you
mostly because I’m hoping to re-enact me walking
over the Millennium Bridge
in May.

if the wind pushed any further
up my skirts, it would force my lungs right out my throat.

my hotel room called for us
but you were on a plane to Norway
and I was in my head.

III.
the last time we had ***
you told me you’d finish me off first next time
but I’m always like your backup song for karaoke,
in case someone takes your first choice.

you never:

acknowledged that my rice was shaped like a heart
and yours like a star at dinner,

ask me what my tattoos mean,

but always ask me if I’m pregnant.

you’re a roll of film that needs be developed but
I keep smearing the edges with my fingers
and scanning the red light over myself.

How do you explain to
your parents that
the reason your grades
are so low is because
there is a hole
in your heart
a sinking feeling
a kettlebell of 50 pounds
an anchor dragging
you down
a monster in your brain
that makes you
forget things
but not one thing
not one thing
that one thing stays.

Here we go again
14 months
No money and no job

Goodbye
American dreams

Hello poverty and survival

After I pay off the credit card this month

I guess I'll buy some new running shoes
And a kettlebell

Hey Askim I can’t sleep… Maybe it’s the blood moon lunar eclipse. I’m restless tonight.  My heart is restless.  I miss you.

I’ve resisted the urge to write to you… mainly because we both needed to find our feet again, and partly because it’s not fair that you get these notes and I get nothing :/

But that’s life eh. I ****** up and here we are…


There’s a few things I wanted to say after our chat.
When I said we moved offices and weren’t in your building, I got my cities confused. (I hadn’t slept much either). I have no idea where our offices are in your city. I’ve never been there and I don’t plan on visiting them. I just wanted to clear that up.

I forgot to share that I wore the scarf you knitted me for the first time a few months ago :) and then again last week. It’s so warm and it feels like a comforting hug around my neck.  It’s one of my most cherished possessions. That and my teapot.

I still use the kettlebell gloves you gave me. Every week. I used to put them on and feel anger as I worked out. The anger is gone Askim. I can’t thank you enough for sharing that time with me a few weeks ago.

Do you remember the wild poppies in my garden. Tiny little red poppies. I collected the seeds and sprinkled them around the neighbourhood. The streets around my home now have them every November. I’m going to keep collecting the seeds and spreading them. The flower of remembrance… my silent tribute to our, now distant, love.  

I still have a few succulents from our time and a single white orchid. I left so many of them to die, unfortunately, when I was in a very dark place. There’s so much I didn’t share about my dark days… But I look after the plants now. I hope to share them with you again one day…

My teapot is back on my desk.

I know you’re back on your feet. Going about your day. I miss you.

I don’t know what will become of this library of love and pain. I can’t use it to write love notes into the black void. And I’m not asking you to come back. You need to respect the life you live. I respect the life you live.

This place is therapy for me… but I don’t know what its future holds. I don’t know what it will become for me, apart from somewhere to empty my heart when it all gets too much.
Is it unfair on you that you have no right of reply… is it unfair on me that I receive no reply? I don’t know Askim. It’s just how life worked out…

As I finish this letter, the eclipse has passed. The blood red moon, washed by the sun, she is radiating a pure innocent white again.

Missing you tonight…