but you couldn’t have forgotten,
because you never forget anything
your mind, racing like it’s trying to win
echoes years of words
that are engraved into your mind

(engraved like the ring that was meant to signify forever --
you never knew forever only lasted a month)

and even when you try to forget
you simply can’t
there is strength in memories
and you,
you will always be weak

like the cool summer wind you came as the sun fell beneath the horizon
and the moon poked its shiny bald head out, in a vague attempt
to make everything  right you held my hand from dusk until dawn
we named constellations and spoke of imaginary lives
that you promised would come true should i have the patience to wait

but as the sun began to rise, you packed my bags,
you rushed me to the station,
you bought my train ticket
with the words good riddance
underneath your breath
like a smack in the face
with desperation
i begged
you
to let me stay

you left before the train did and as it pulled out of its tracks
with the sound of speed, the sight of powerlines and blurry trees

and i am (another broken promise, another mistake,
another you, another me, another ex, another us,
another one that bit the dust) gone

i
believed
you
when
you
said
i
was
worth
it

i
believed
you
when
­you
said
i
was
crazy

i
believed
you
when
you
said
i
was
a
dream
­
i
believed
you
when
you
said
you
hated
me

i
believed
every
last­
lie

MAY BIRDS TAKE OUT YOUR EYES
MAY YOU BE DOUSED WITH GASOLINE IN THE MIDST OF A FOREST FIRE
MAY YOUR FATHER'S HEART STOP BEATING BEFORE HE CAN TELL YOU HE LOVES YOU ONE LAST TIME
MAY YOUR EARS RING AND YOUR EYES GO BLIND
MAY YOU LOSE EVERYTHING THAT ONCE MATTERED

EVERYTHING                   I                                          SAY
REPEATS                          WHERE                             ARE
                     THE                                    WORDS
TO                                       TELL                                YOU
                  I'M                                       SORRY

"you know, the past
should be kept in the past."

there's a thunderstorm in the window behind me and I've been checking in on some people I used to know; would you call them friends or lovers, I don't know. my fingers can't type as fast as my mind works; or doesn't; do you know what it's like to get shot in the head? there aren't any tears; you're not a debby downer, you're the life of the party; you're smiling and cracking jokes but inside you wish you were dead; you shoot deer but you think about turning that gun around and shooting yourself; gunshots can't be as loud as your mind; to disrupt the neighbourhood would be the least of your selfish concerns; would anyone remember you if you died?; has anyone noticed you left or have they all just moved on without you?; old habits die hard and you just want to feel something, I just want to feel something; who are we?; no one but strangers who once kissed so hard their lips bled; oh how raw and passionate; i can't seem to be able to distinguish the difference between pain, pleasure and passion; but in my dreams I feel more alive than when I'm awake; when can I crawl into bed next?; I don't want to sleep, you are too far but you are too close; perhaps this was all an impulsive mistake, don't you worry about the inbetweens and the afters; worry about now and yesterday; I am forever haunted by my past; your karma follows you and so do I; don't you dare point that gun in my direction again; I'd rather be set on fire; douse me in gasoline in our bed; turn everything you loved into ashes; I will survive because you never really loved me; everyone is moving on and like the sun I am staying still; revolve around me but don't get too close; you can't even look at me without going blind; the sun is not as beautiful as we romanticize her to be; thunder so loud it shakes your room; you shake me to the core; the lightning will strike again; do you know what it feels like to be shot in the head?

AT NIGHT WHEN I'M ASLEEP IN MY DREAMS I TRY TO SCREAM BUT NOTHING EVER COMES OUT. WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU? I WANT TO KISS MY BEST FRIEND AND I WANT TO KISS A STRANGER AND I WANT TO KISS A MAN AS OLD AS MY FATHER. ALL TONGUE AND TEETH AND RAW AND *****; JUST KISS ME, I'M IRISH IS A SYNONYM FOR DRUNK.

she screams "SILENCE DOES NOT EXIST" at the top of her lungs but there's no one around to hear her

her brain pounds against her skull and she can hear the sound of drilling through bone she can smell the sweet stench of human bone meal she can taste the oozing sawdust textured drips of her own blood and she can see the back of her eyelids, tinged with red from the florescent lights  of the hospital room as her fingers twist in the thin coarse blankets she tugs at so desperately writhing in the cot they've graciously provided her with if only to remove her stillbeating organs with the promise of a cure

she screams "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME" at the top of her lungs but there's no one around to hear her

TRUMP
i never said a word about you because
would it be rude to call you an embarrassment?
you're everything i'm not and you're
everything i fear in a person but

tonight i thought about you and for the first time
since i blocked your number that night i was
supposed to come over i kind of maybe sort of
missed your touch but i didn't miss you

i loved you when you were inside of me but
could barely stand to be in the same room with you otherwise
you made my heart pound like a bad anxiety attack after
seeing your 47 in math and thinking woah i might not graduate
and realizing even worse: with a grade that low i'll never make it
to outer space (which means we'll be stuck on the same planet
forever no matter how hard i try to rid myself of you you will
always linger between the cracks in the sidewalks and broken
picket fences you are suburbia's biggest fear)

POOH
you taught me that lust never leads to love
and you stole my favourite book. i wonder
if you ever read it but you stopped talking to me
out of the blue, apparently i had done something wrong?

i mean,
that's a first

i dream about you more often than i'd like to admit
sometimes you drop in just to say hi but most of the time
you call me a ***** and tell me you wish i were dead but
no matter what you heard about me i swear to God i'm pure

or maybe God was right when he burned my skin alive and
watched me become ashes in the middle of nowhere with no  one
around to hear me scream for help, have i sinned too much to be
let in to Heaven?

******
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful
beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful

SIRIUS
history repeats and i've been stuck in this loop
since i can remember i fall in love with the same
person over and over again i fall in love with you
and you fall in love with him and i stop believing
in love all together but i fall in love with someone
else because they remind me of you and i hope you
think of me from time to time and miss me as much
as i miss you as i try to fall out of love but it never
works the way it worked so easily for you, first love
doesn't mean forever love because the first is never
the last and everyone said so but i was hoping that
maybe one day we'd get married in the garden down
the hill by your house that overlooked Lake Ontario
or the ocean as you liked to call it because you could
never distinguish the difference between blues

lately i've been spending nights awake and days asleep
because i'm unreliable. the night time is quiet and
at four in the morning almost everybody's asleep so i can
spend my time in solitude and sometimes my thoughts get dark
sometimes i hurt the people closest to me but not on purpose
sometimes my mental health speaks for me in a way that i can't
quite explain but you can count on me sleeping through all the
alarms that i set before we meet at the mall to get coffee that
i don't even want because caffeine makes me throw up but
i miss the outside world and i'm sick of my bed but when i leave
i just want to be curled up in a ball underneath a pile of blankets
and asleep, a million miles away in dreamland, the closest
i will ever get to outer space because i'm not really good at science
and i barely passed grade eleven math but in my dreams i can
kiss the stars and i can fly, i can travel through time
sometimes the dreams turn into nightmares
sometimes they get too real
sometimes they last for too long
my subconscious doesn't trust you to say the least because you're
always in my dreams, hurting me in the worst ways possible
and maybe i haven't quite forgiven you yet for all the things you have
put me through, despite my various attempts to move on
there's a bitter hatred that curls around your name whenever it
tears through my throat, rotting my teeth and turning my tongue
dark black but it's only because you weren't wrong when you said
soulmates are real, you are mine and i might not be yours but
i will never be able to forget the way you made me feel and
my days on this earth feel limited, i could die anytime i fall asleep
but i'm no different than anyone else, our probabilities of death
are all the same. it's one hundred percent guaranteed to happen
and the only people that know what happens after you die are
the dead and unless you've got a dead friend willing to share the
answers with you, i don't really know how to get the answer to that
question unless i **** myself but i haven't decided just yet if knowing
the answer is better than living, would you take the blue pill or the
red pill? do you live your life knowing nothing you do matters because
at the end of the day, you're going to be forgotten in a thousand years
anyways and no one will even remember your name and i've always
hated my name so i often ask myself, why not just get a head start?
cons: there are people on this earth that i care about, and who care
about me. there are things i have yet to experience and things i've
never seen. things i've never touched, smelled, heard, or touched.
i've always believed in fate
but lately i've been thinking i took the wrong path

you're in love and you can't get out
there's a twenty dollar fee to leave and your pockets are empty
the exit lines are burnt out and the stores are all closed
locked and gated for the night, you've got nowhere to go but here
you might as well take a seat and get comfortable
because the ride has just begun
there are ups and downs but i'll warn you beforehand
there are more downs than ups but the ups will take you so high
you'll be able to see the moon, the sun, the stars, and all the planets
you'll understand life more than you ever have and
you'll be walking among aliens and soaring with comets
but when you go down you'll meet the devil and your skin
will burn your stomach
will be sick from all the smoke you inhale your skin
will be carved from the devil's pitchfork and branded with his name
hell isn't an eternity, though, the books have got that all wrong
it only feels like one
because happiness is temporary but pain lasts forever
(especially when you're suffering from the disease known as
teen angst)

nobody gets off this ride
sometimes people fall off and from what i've heard
it's almost as painful as staying on and it's like a bad ****** addiction
most people relapse and end up coming right back on
the lucky people find peace, they don't go so high anymore
but they never go so low, either
and sometimes that's enough

but you're not a lucky person and you won't be
it's only been a year since you broke that mirror
so try again in six
but for now you might as well sit back
and enjoy the ride
because you're not going anywhere.

it's been two years and i remember that night through
a drunken haze, but no one ever taught me that no matter who you are
(almost) every drunk person is friendly and that should not be confused
with friendship or even acquaintances

you always said, "drunk men tell no lies,"
but then you would slur, "i swear i'm sober"
i should have known not to believe you
i should know that drunk people are anything but truthful
you just say whatever comes to mind
and two years ago that happened to be, "i want to be burned"
which left me with a scar on the back of my hand
that reminds me of a boy i can't ******* stand

two years ago that happened to be, "i'd like a pack of belmonts, please."
and "yes," when the cashier asked if i wanted king size
i wasn't dumb enough to think i wouldn't get addicted
i never really expected black tar
coming out of my throat
or nicotine making most of the decisions for me
headaches stomach aches anger sadness and suicidal
are all synonyms for withdrawal
yellow stained fingers and an empty wallet
a drug worse than you

two years ago, i asked you to be mine and you said yes
two years ago i thought i had found true happiness and i was naive enough
to think i would be the one person whose first love would last forever
even though you lived miles away
two years later i'm still not sure who broke up with who first
i think you had already broken up with me in your mind
a place i used to go for comfort
two years later you are a complete stranger

two years later i am a complete stranger

two years later

-                             -                               -                          -         -                 -


two years ago
                  
         i went to a party and made some of the biggest

                                                        ­                            dumbest
                             ­                         
                                                                ­                                drunken
                         ­                                                                 ­                      
                                                                ­                                         decisions
                                          
            ­                        of my life
                           but then i have to ask
                              would you go back in time and change it all?
                                                            ­ would i?

waking up with inexplicable bruises
the sound of you on my mind
i roam around an empty bed
in an empty house
in a broken city

where everything reminds me of you
didn't you say
you loved broken wings
and blue eyed girls?

i go to sleep
pristine pale skin
i dream of dancing with the devil
while you watch

i wake up
dark red scars on my calf
i think of you as freddy kreuger
maybe some sort of alien

you always were
too good for this world
or perhaps too malicious

you always said,
"you exist you exist you exist"
you always cried
when i said i loved you

shirts ruined from your salty
acidic
tears

i fall (apart) asleep
in the back of a car
on its way to nowhere close to you

don't you dare
end your life
and
take yourself from
here

if you do i will be
solemn and alone

i don't want to be alone
never again
even if it means using my
voice for once
in my life
talking is not really my thing
after what happened
before I met you.
love, i am willing to try
even if you aren't.

he left you
about two years ago
or maybe you left him

he called you a *****
he told you to shut the **** up
he slammed the door in your face

you called him a Liar
you said delete my number
you got on the next bus to nowhere

he used to call you
b   e    a       u      t       i  f      u      l
now he doesn't call you at all

but that time of your life was a mess
of ******* and existentialism
and a love hate relationship

you went to rehab
tried to fall in love with yourself
stopped letting strangers feel you from the inside

so maybe you were a *****
but he wasn't exactly a saint
you heard he got married three months after you broke up

to the girl
he cheated on you with
s h o t g u n     w e d d i n g

he kept so many secrets from you
he became a secret himself
he dug his grave with his lies

and maybe you were annoying
every time you asked, 'is this real'
but you needed to know if you were dreaming

because you could never get him out of your dreams
even when you were miles away
sleeping in someone else's bed

you think about calling him
sometimes, late at night
when you're alone

you're worried his wife might pick up
or the phone will wake the baby up
but really you're worried he won't want to talk to you

a Liar and a *****
but if he knocked on your front door
you'd fall into his arms all over again

people are not like seasons
it was not a change from summer
to winter

once summer is over
it never comes around again
no matter how badly you want it to

at some point in time
you needed him
but he needed you too

at some point in time
you were screaming your love
from rooftops

at some point in time
those ******* roofs
caved in underneath your feet

leaving you alone
with your thoughts
in a pile of rubble

two years later
and you still wake up sometimes
wondering if it's possible to still be in love

with someone who broke your heart
and tore it into pieces
two years ago

or maybe you broke his heart
but you often wonder
if he even had a heart at all

you never once saw it

i can't explain it.*
i've been trying for so long to put words
to the way i feel when i think of you but
i can't explain it.
it's not love. it's not.
i've been in love before and none of that has ever felt this amazing.
and here we are again,
the word 'amazing' doesn't even begin to define the way it feels.
i can't explain it.
kissing you is like kissing the sun.
sleeping with you is like sleeping on a cloud.
looking at you is like watching the most beautiful sunset you could possibly imagine.
i can't explain it.
but that's not enough,
there's more. there's always more
because a love like this is never ending
a love like this follows you on throughout your life
i keep looking at my hands and wondering
if maybe sometimes you close your eyes
and think of them
i can't explain it.
i am always thinking about your hands
your nails on my broken flesh,
your fingers in between mine,
i wonder about your life line, your heart line --
how many kids will you have? how many past lives have you lived?
i bet you have a writer's fork.
i can't explain it.
you are a mystery to me
and i've been trying so hard to make sense of this
to make sense of you
*i can't explain it.

i got this crazy kind of head case where i swear on my life, my head is spinning round and round the room like some kind of never ending rollercoaster. i’ve been straightedge since august and i’ve been taking my pills regularly since july but it feels like i took a hand full of oxy and downed the ***** that my mom left in cupboard, left over from the cottage (jello shooters, appletini, orange juice), enough to get me and my friends drunk and i know for anyone else this would be a tease to get lively and drink with friends but for me this is a tease to end my life once and for all and it’s been pondering around my mind since we got back but darling don’t be narcissistic this isn’t because of you and i, no, it’s just about you and the way you felt the need to rub your near ninety in math or your eighty five in french and how your worst grade was a low seventy eight and i start to wonder if you realize how some people would **** for those grades. it took me almost six years to realize that the reasons my grades were so low weren’t because i was stupid because no one’s really stupid. it wasn’t about missing cells in my brains or bad memories, it was about scars on my wrists and never ending thoughts about the afterlife, pondering about whether there was a heaven and a hell and if i would make it or not. wondering if anyone would stop me if i cut up the razor my mom bought me for christmas and used it to tear through veins (frail and lonely) wondering if i were ever going to make it past your low low seventy eight in any given class or maybe i was just stupid (can’t count the scars from feeling dumb on one hand any longer) and maybe the reason i don’t like you anymore is because you did this to me and you don’t even know it but darling don’t be narcissistic this isn’t because of you and i, no, it’s about the way you make me feel like i should hang my head in shame for being me because you acted like you were embarrassed to hang out with me that one day in the cafeteria and the image of you covering your face and walking away as ifyou didn’t know me will forever be etched into my eyelids, i got quiet for six weeks and started becoming another person because i said i needed change. but change won’t pay my way to university or give me the confidence i need, it’s much more than that. chane will let me fake a smile for a while but on the inside, i’ll still be the same (loud and bright) even if on the outside i’ve become a copy of everything i’ve never wanted to be (lonely and shy), claiming, “it’s all right, social situations just make me feel uncomfortable.” even thought they don’t and i know you can feel it, the way i want to walk up onto that stage and let everyone see who i am (different, me, not you) but i know you won’t let me and darling don’t be narcissistic this isn’t because of you and i, no, it’s about the way you make me feel like i should be alone and i don’t deserve to have anyone like the way you left me to hang out with someone else and i slumped against the wall next to the main office and stared at my hands and wished i had someone else to have lunch with but i didn’t so i sighed to myself and put my earphones in (no i don’t have a gun) and stared at the clock on my phone until lunch ended (from 80% to 30%) and afterwards i ignored you for letting me suffer for an hour (my heart raced every time any one walked by in fear that they would know i was alone and laugh at me) but you never knew why and i never told you because i feared you would be upset if i did and you would end the friendship and i would truly have no one but truth be told i never had anyone to begin with — you were never really my friend you were never really anything (well, you were) but i was never really anything to you which makes is that much easier for this to happen and darling don’t be narcissistic this isn’t about you and i, no, it’s about me and the way i let you crawl under my skinand take me over like some kindof parasite that makes doctors scratch their heads and run unnecessary tests (eeg, cat scan, x-ray) while i lay on the hospital bed letting myself die but not allowing myself to tell them why in fear of being locked up for being insane (please, in this society?) they can see my pain is real but they can’t see why so they send me back home and i’m never alone, not with you whispering how worthless i am in my ear (i wish i were as crazy as i felt) your whispers turns into screams as soon as i take my seat in math class andi’m so focused on your screams that i’m staring blankly at the test on my desk like i have no idea it’s there and i’m so confused (why doesn’t anyone else hear you) (how are people writing so furiously) but darling don’t be narcissistic, this isn’t your voice, it’s mine and they take me out before math class is over and drop me off at the hospital and this time it really isn’t about you because they’re diagnosing me with schizophrenia and keeping me in the hospital (so i don’t hurt myself or anyone around me) and when you come to visit me you drop of flowers and i start screaming and they kick you out (they tell you not to return) and for the first time in my life i feel okay

DONT TELL ME IT WASNT REAL
JUST PLEASE KEEP ME SANE
AND TELL ME IT WAS REAL
TELL ME I DIDNT IMAGINE IT ALL
AND THAT HAND IN MINE WAS YOURS
KID ME INTO BELIEVING YOU FELT IT TOO
AND YOU FELT THE EMPTINESS IN YOUR HEART WHEN I LEFT
(WHETHER IT WAS GOOD OR BAD)
SAY THAT YOU THINK ABOUT ME SOMETIMES
AND THAT NIGHT IN JANUARY WHERE IT ALL STARTED TO GO WRONG
PROMISE ME YOU DIDNT FORGET ME
AND SOMETIMES THINGS STILL REMIND YOU OF ME

YOU DONT NEED TO SAY YOU LOVED ME
JUST THAT YOU NEEDED ME AT SOME POINT IN TIME
(THE TIMING DOESNT MATTER
ALL I NEED TO KNOW IS THAT YOUR WORDS WERE REAL
WITH REAL MEANING BEHIND THEM
SO I CAN STOP
QUESTIONING MY SANITY)

there's a superstition that says you have to hold your breath when you pass a graveyard otherwise a ghost will enter your body.
lately whenever i find myself driving through your neighbourhood, i've been holding my breath because i'm afraid of all the ghosts you left behind.
i noticed that your house is for rent and i feel bad for the family that movies in there. you left so much behind to rot and i highly doubt their spirits are anything like casper, not after all the suffering.
i've been looking for answers in everything. i've been crossing my fingers and making wishes and watching stars. i think you're around somewhere because i don't think it's irony that every time i'm near your house green day comes on the radio.
i'm worried that you're trapped and you'll never be let go. i've been dreaming about you a lot lately and each time i wake up unable to move because i'm expecting to roll over and see your smile. each morning i only disappoint myself.
i haven't been able to forget the way you laid in my arms and cried about all the people that you said you'd hurt. i haven't been able to forget the way you pressed your forehead against mine and whispered, "kiss me, baby."
but what i miss more than any of that is your cigarette kisses. inhaling your exhale, your secrets getting caught in my throat.
more than a little secondhand smoke in my throat.

you meant everything to me.
you still do.
i'm falling apart without you,
please come home.

i don't know what it's like
to not have a dad
to wake up every morning to feel as if something's missing
some part of your life
some distant memories of a man you called daddy and your mommy called love
only to one day disappear and be someone else's love and someone else's daddy

i don't know what it's like
to be you

but i know i'd do anything
to make you smile
and make you feel loved
i know that one day
you'll look back on life
with bright eyes for the future

you are
capable

you are not

      y o u r p a s t

this is only temporary

smile because the world is so big
and there's so much you haven't learned yet
one day you'll be someone's princess

ANDI'LLKNOWIWATCHEDYOUGROWUP

please don't forget me
if i'm living i'm living for you
i don't need to be another person in your life that left

you're so young
so pure

DONTFORGETWHOYOUARE

BEYOURSELF

BELIEVEINYOURSELFTOO

I W I LL ALWAYS BE HERE FOR YOU

call me anytime

LET ME BE YOU
WITHOUT GIVING EVEN HALF
AS MUCH OF THE EFFORT
I GIVE TO BE ME

Flash back to grade four, sitting in my room, listening to Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. Pin up posters of Pete Wentz and Gerard Way filled my room. (Thanks a lot, Tiger Beat.)
My sister held out her pinky saying, "Promise me you'll never be emo."
Fifth grade me, not even know what emo meant, intertwined our pinkies.

Flash forward to grade six, sitting in my room, listening to Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. Pin up posters of Pete Wentz and Gerard Way filled my room. (Thanks a lot, Tiger Beat.)
My tiny pale wrist appeared to be a canvas for art. I wanted to draw a self portrait; a sad little girl with big dreams, no friends, a mommy with a heart condition and a daddy that didn't love her.
I took a tack from my wall and began to paint my wrist with blood.

Flash back to grade five, when wen we spent all our time on the soccer field behind the school.
Whether we were playing soccer or picking at the leaves that hung by the fence, every recess we were there.
Sometimes the older kids would come along, if not just to bug us.
Eighth grade meant swearing and spitting.
My best friend was always braver than I was. I remember her saying "the Earth has never tasted anything as vile as your spit."
I swallowed down my own saliva.

Flash forward to the eleventh grade, where we spent all our time in the smoker's pit in front of the school.
Whether we were smoking cigarettes or waiting for someone to finish, ever lunch break we were there.
Sometimes people would walk through us to get to the bus stop.
Ninth grade meant coughing as much as you could just to let everyone know you were ******* about breathing the smoke filled air.
No one was brave anymore. We were all cowards, our vile, nicotine infused spit hitting the pavement in front of us.
I stepped on my cigarette ****.

Flash back to first semester, grade nine, hearing about people I used to know doing drugs and hooking up.
I said I couldn't believe it. These people that I used to know. I couldn't believe Sarah was doing drugs. She was so pure and innocent.
I promised my best friend I would never do anything.
She promised me she wouldn't either.

Flash forward to second semester, grade nine, doing drugs and hooking up.
I said it was just a coping mechanism. The person that you used to know was still there. I'm still pure and innocent.
I promised my best friend I was okay.
She asked me if I was high.

Flash back to my first day of kindergarten. Letting go of my mom's hand for the first time.
The caterpillars in my stomach had turned into butterflies for the first time.
I kissed my mom goodbye and finally, like the caterpillars in my stomach, I broke through my cocoon.
For the first time in my life, I was free to spread my wings and fly.

Flash forward to my last day of high school. Wrapping my arms around friendships I had worked so hard to build and saying my final goodbyes.
The caterpillars in my stomach had turned into butterflies for the second time.
I shook my teacher's hand and took my diploma and finally, like the caterpillars in my stomach, I broke through my cocoon.
For the second time in my life, I was free to spread my wings and fly.

january:
"you fill my lungs with meaning,
and i'm exhaling my reason for living.
even though it hasn't been cold for months,
i can see my breath like the smoke
you blew in my face when you told me you liked me
morethanafriend and i asked if that meant best friends"

february:
"the real question is how do you tell someone you might be in love with them and you slit your wrists and took some pills last weekend because of it?"

march:
"i think
in the most simplest way
you are my everything.
i don't need anything more than i need you
not even oxygen,
i could breathe you in
and my lungs would work better
than ever.
you could bump the blood through my veins
my heart just might pump properly
the steady beat beat of a heart
opposed to the frantic beep beep of life support
you make me
strong and free
full of love and want
instead of illness and an i.v."

april:
"i want your hands wrapped around my throat. i want all the metaphors to become a reality. i want your fingernails leaving marks on my pale skin. i want knives because your nails aren't sharp enough. i want bruises and scars all over my body. i want people to ask me why and how. i want to let them know and i want to watch the glares and listen to the shouts when you walk past. i want everyone to see every word you've ever said to me, every single time the blade pierced my skin. i want them all to stop seeing me as a lonely little girl who's desperate for attention, but as a victim. a victim from everything you've ever said and done to me."

may:
"'i fall for people way too fast.'
'i know it'd be really easy to fall for you.'

W H Y
can't i stop thinking?
do i even care?
does this resonate?
did i write this down?
did i get involved?
am i the one you trust?
don't i know?
did this even start?
do i put trust in people?
did i get so close?
don't i think about?
am i so sorry?"

june:
"[...] i'm going to **** myself and if anyone gives any ******* CONSPIRACIES AS TO WHY I KILLED MYSELF I'M HAUNTING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU PLEASE JUST PUBLISH ALL OF THIS I HATE YOU ALL STOP ACTING LIKE SOFT GRUNGE IS ANYTHING YOU'RE ALL TWELVE KURT COBAIN IS DEAD GET OVER IT"

july:
"i want to be in the backseat of a care where 'belmont' is only the name of the avenue by my uncle's house and coughing is from a cold. i want to be in utero with booming voices of people i've never met, trying to figure out what life is and how i'm going to get out. i want to sit in the back of my parents' car, heading back from my uncles around one in the morning, counting canadian flags to try and stay awake. i want to be twenty five, visiting my home for the first time all year, enjoying my parents' presence again. i want to have no idea what words like anxiety mean and my nightmares are of clowns, not the sickening reality i'm living in."

july:
"we kiss
and we are the first human beings
to ever experience perfection
because nothing has ever been
this wonderful and so so beautiful

and as we kiss
i am making vows against your lips
'don't **** this up dont **** this up
dontfuckthisupdntfckthsp'

but we are still kissing
and i'm whispering, 'i love you'
it's too much for you and i know
i've already ****** this up"

august:
"when we met i was like a broken puzzle piece. you folded me so the crease on my side from being broken was still noticeable, but i fit perfectly. at first, i felt out of place. like you had just jammed me in there. i tried to fit in other places and for a while, it worked.

but i always ended up back in that same first spot."

september:
"THERE ARE ALWAYS REASONS FOR FALLING FOR THE WRONG PEOPLE. YOU JUST HAVE TO LOOK FOR THEM. IT MIGHT BE A LIFE LESSON OR IT MIGHT BE TO GUIDE YOU TO THE PERSON YOU BELONG. MAYBE YOU MET SOMEONE OUT OF THEM. MAYBE THEY INTRODUCED YOU TO GOOD MUSIC. MAYBE THEY MADE YOU WATCH YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE. YOU HAVE TO STAY POSITIVE. NOT EVERYTHING IS A NEGATIVE EXPERIENCE."

october:
"today i decided i needed to stop thinking about you.
i smashed my wrist against the headboard
until all i could think about was pain.
when it started to bruise,
the colour reminded me of your hair."

november:
"fuckshitfuck
you're in the other room and i haven't seen you in so long and i guess i thought maybe i was over being in love with you but i'm definitely not i just want to reach for your hand and tell you how beautiful your eyes are and how badly you make me laugh i want to cover your ******* body with poetry ******* for making me feel like this"

december:**
"the cold winter air makes me wonder
how long it's been
since the first time you kissed me and said you loved me
then pretend like it never happened

the snow on the ground makes me wonder
how long it's been
since i left and swore never to speak to you again
only to tell you i missed you a day later

the ice from my rooftop makes me wonder
how long it's been
since i buried a hole in the cold icy centre of your heart
and called it home"

8:01 am
i kiss my cigarette
like i would kiss you
if you were here

10:31 am
i'm scratching your name
into the wood of my desk
as if it were my arm

11:56 am
winter weather isn't nearly as cold as my heart
when i'm missing you

1:07 pm
we take notes on love
i'm writing love letters to you
in iambic pentameter instead

4:09 pm
as i'm heading home
my heart wonders if yours missed mine
as much as mine missed yours

11:12 pm
i missed 11:11
but it's all right
because you have no way of getting here anyway

2:36 am
you're asleep and i'm imagining your heartbeat
pressed against my back and your steady breathing in my ear
the way it would be if i could sleep too

3:41 am
are you dreaming of me
the way i'm dreaming of you?

5:59 am
i don't have to text you goodnight
because i'll be dreaming of you anyway

I think something ****** is going to happen soon. I'm smoking myself to death and I can't sleep anymore. I'm apathetic and I'm dizzy and my music won't go loud enough. nicotine is ****. nicotine is tearing me apart. I'm tearing myself apart and I don't know about anything anymore I guess. things just sort of happen and I sort of hate myself for letting things happen the way they did. I'm kind of taking people out of my life one by one and I'm scared I'm going to take you out too. my hands won't stop shaking and my teeth won't stop chattering but the only thing cold about me is my heart. I think I'm going crazy. and that's that. that's life. people go crazy. I need to leave my house. I need to leave this city. I need to leave. I need to disappear and I need to not be me anymore. I understand your fears now but I still don't understand mine. I guess there's a sort of bitterness that no one will ever understand me quite like you but people out there understand you better than I do. I'm angry and I'm upset. maybe you never cared about me in the way I cared about you. i need to sleep. I need to breathe. I need to breathe you. I need everything to stop spinning and I need to throw up. this isn't an apology to anyone but myself. this isn't a suicide note but I'm killing myself. I'm not slitting my wrists but I'm killing the person I was. you won't miss me. you'll miss the things about me that made you feel human. maybe I could be you but I've already tried that and I just ended up overdosing on a perpetual hatred for myself that didn't stop until I walked outside and sat in the snow for hours watching cars pass and hoping one of them was yours. there are hands touching hands in my head and they're not yours. I never dream about you anymore. I dream about us. I dream about kissing you. and sometimes I wonder if you're real or if you're in my head because it's impossible to believe someone so perfect could exist. but you're not perfect. **** I hate you. you're so far from perfect. but your smile burns into my skin like a cigarette burn and your flaws tear me apart but they put me back together again and I can't tell whether I love or hate you for that. do I hate you so much that I love you or do I love you so much that I hate you? some part of you makes me you. some part of you makes me me. I feel sick and dizzy. you're not here to hold me up and call me an idiot but in my head you are. in my head you're always here. I wonder if you would love me even if I were someone else. I wonder if we would have met if I were born an entirely different person. [WAIT. they don't love you like I love you.] ****. no. ****. ****. ****. ****. it's okay but it's not okay. I'm going to die here and no one is going to tell you because you're so far away. I wish I could be dying in your arms but I wish I didn't wish that. I wish I didn't wish anything. you're a shooting star at 11:11 and I'm a disease killing myself and everyone around me because love is just kinda funny like that. maybe I should sleep but I'm afraid I won't dream of you because I'm never as close to you as I am in my dreams even though I like real you better than dream you. I'm going to sleep but while I sleep please know that I'm sorry and that I'm trying for you. I'm going to get better for you and only you because no one else could make me feel so mentally stable and unstable at the exact same time. this isn't hello just yet but it isn't goodbye either. it's just a for now.

you know that feeling when it's late at night
and your head is screaming, "you'll never be enough for anyone"?

or when it's early in the morning
and you can't sleep because you're dreaming that you're alive?

you know when you're alone in your room
and the doors are locked and blood is spilling from your wrists?

you know when you're in a room full of people
and you can't breathe because you feel so alone?

or when your friends are talking excitedly about their futures
and you're sitting there hoping you have none?

or when they ask you to go out with them
and you can't because gravity is pulling you down into your mattress?



                                                      i guess i never thought i would know.

2:03 am

the skyline of the city illuminates my mind.
the skyline of the city is my mind.
the brightest part of the city is where i keep my memories of you and i.
the dimmest part of the city is where i keep everything i'd like to forget.
the wind sweeps through the city the way you sweep through my mind.
it sends a chill up my spine and it pushes in between memories.
you're like the wind;
no matter how hard i try to avoid you, i can't.
you're everywhere i go, so i may as well enjoy it.
like kids fly kites on windy days, i hold your hand on chilly, winter days.
you shoot me a look and i'm shrugging, 'it's cold.'
the moon towers over the city like some sort of all knowing essence.
(i guess if i believed in God, He would be the moon.)
the moon always reminded me of my sister.
watching over me and understanding when i thought she wouldn't.
smiling down on me and coaxing me to believe it's okay.
you can see the river from the balcony.
where i drown my thoughts.
eternal river of the spotless mind; i'll forget you if it kills me.
you won't come back.
i can't stop staring down at the city.
and i'm thinking, "i wish i could go."
i wish i could escape.
anywhere, everywhere.

the city is my mind.
i can't stop thinking.
and i'm wondering if it's possible to leave your mind.

i am alone.
    no really, this time i am.
there's nobody else here.
   be careful what you wish for.
nobody to stop me
    i can't be saved from myself.
i am going          to crack


        blood will spill
from these
                    pretty white wrists
onto         the bathroom          floor
my    mom                     spent
    so         much time        working on
to make perfect
            unlike
her imperfect
                   daughter


mom i'm sorry
you had to come home to this
mom i'm sorry
i could never be what you wanted
mom i'm sorry
i've caused you so much pain
mom i'm sorry
for making you pick up the pieces
mom i'm sorry
i smashed them after you finally go them back together

dad
you were never here
but i know you wanted to be
and i'm sorry you couldn't
i'm sorry
i never appreciated you
(i'm sorry
i failed you, too)

i'm sorry
i thought you could fix me
and got angry
when you couldn't
and left.
i'm sorry
i caused you so much pain
and blamed it all on you.
i'm sorry
i'm not who i promised you
i would be.
i'm sorry
i never came back
even though i promised i'd never leave
i'm sorry
for every single thing
i ever did to you

                                                                                   "don't be sorry"
                                                                             yeah, okay.

i wonder what life would have been like
if we had worked out
i wonder if i'd be miserable
or you'd be miserable
i wonder how long it would take us
to hate each other
(i wonder if you hated me when you broke up with me)
i wonder if i was ever good enough for you
or if you were ever good enough for me
i'm sorry about your dad, too
                                                                                         i hope i don't see him when i go

you killed me
you took the blade
and you ran it down my skin
you pierced it
you watched
and you decided it wasn't enough
you took a sharper one
and even though i was still bleeding
you ran it down my arm

                                                                                                     "i'm sorry for hurting you."
                                                                                    if that were true, you would have stopped.

and this time
there is nothing stopping me
and i can feel it
and i can see it
but then
   i remember
               her

(and i can't
do any of it)

so i take a breath
and the razor falls
and i am not alone
        *not this time

i.
your teeth chatter and the wind hits your face.
you can no longer feel your hands or legs.
something about frostbite floats around your mind.
and while your head is screaming, go home
your legs are screaming, left, right, left, right.

you remember walking this way from school.
when your sister would pick you up and walk with you.
or when your "best friend" would make you take the long way
so you could walk her home.

you remember trying to climb that tree
to impress a couple of kids
in hopes that you would become friends.
you remember falling
and the shrill laughter of "never never friends"

you remember sitting in that field
and writing poetry
about the dogs that passed.

you remember playing in that park
with a girl you thought
you'd be friends with forever.
you remember sitting on the swings
while your mom talked to other moms
about what it was like to be a mother.
you remember sliding down the slide,
playing in the sand,
and the reluctance to go home.

ii.
you find yourself in His neighborhood.
you still remember the exact way to His house.
how could you not?
you are still smoking.
you imagine the smoke hitting His face.
He would be shocked, if only He could see you now.
what He made you.

you stop by His house.
you remember the path across His house that would lead you to school if you followed it.
you remember the tree next to His house where He poked a wasp's nest.
you remember His backyard, how you would build forts and He would always win.
you remember His living room, blanket forts where you would tease you until you cried.
you remember His mother and her patronizing smile.

there are christmas lights.
you wonder which room is His.
you wonder if His house still looks the same.
you wonder if He remembers what He did to you.

how He touched you
even though you said no.
how He told you that you wanted it
even though you said you didn't.
how He told you that you needed him
even though you knew you didn't.

He is a ghost now, just like the rest of this neighborhood.
and you know if you stay long enough
the ghosts will take it as an open invitation
and come out to play.

iii.
you keep walking.
you put the cigarette out.
you think you're lost until you find a familiar looking building.
you walk towards it.
you realize it's the church across from your elementary school.

ah, elementary school.
remember how they broke you?
remember how they called you names?
remember how you tried to **** yourself?
remember all the friends you didn't have?

you can see the ghosts, now.
the school is filled.
your legs are moving towards it.
you remember the nightmares you had about this exact place last week.
you take pictures.
you try to catch a demon on film.

you have lost all control of your legs.

this is where you told ghost stories about the old lady that lived in the forest behind the school.
this is where you made a pact that you would be friends for life.
this is where that kid told that teacher he was death when he meant to say deaf.
this is where you sat under the playground and laughed so hard you peed.
this is where you showed them the scars on your wrist.
this is where they rolled their eyes and called you "attention seeking".
this is where she told you every lie they'd ever said about you.
this is where you sat when you told them you were going to **** yourself tonight.
this is where you bled and everyone saw.
this is where you broke.

this is where you became who you are today.

iv.
the anxiety is killing you.
you light another cigarette.
you hear voices and a bark.
you make a left.

down the road is the fence you kicked your show over in the second grade.
you wonder if you should thank them for returning your shoe or not.
you don't.

you walk towards her house.
the last time you were here was halloween in grade nine.
you were dressed as the mad hatter.
being chased by some guy dressed as michael myers.
trying to figure out who you really are.

she became someone completely different less than a year later.
she had been telling people she wished your best friend would **** herself.
she got into drugs.
she was always too good for you, anyways.

you want to knock on her door and ask how she's doing.
you wonder if she remembers you.
you don't.

v.
you walk past His best friend's house.
he has bright, shining lights, too.
christmas spirit.

you wonder if he still lives there or not.
you remember the way you went to daycare together.
the three of you.

you were never close with him.
he was into hockey and more attractive girls.
by the time He transferred out of your school, he had no reason to talk to you anymore.
he forgot all about you.

he started dating girls in grade one.
he started cursing in grade five.
he had kissed a girl by grade eight.
she thought she was in love with him.
he had no idea what love meant.

he still plays lacrosse with Him.
he talked to you about Him, sometimes.
he told you how He was doing, how much he hated Him.

at least the two of you had that to talk about.

vi.
you are almost home.
you check your phone.
four missed calls.
three unanswered texts.
where r u?
you turn off your phone and put your hands in your pockets.

you're walking down the same path you would during school.
you remember the way the boy you had a crush on would tease you as you walked home.
he lived on your street.
he would call you names.
you told yourself it was only because he liked you.
he didn't.

the two of you used to be best friends.
you played in the park together.
you had matching walkie talkies.
he came to all your birthday parties
and you went to all of his.

until you weren't cool enough.
and that was that.

you still see him sometimes.
you don't exchange a hello or even a smile.
you act like he doesn't exist.
he does the same for you.

you wonder if he feels as guilty as you do.

vii.
you are home, but you are not alone.
you've returned with your own ghost.
she is whispering in your ear how you have become
everything she would be ashamed of.

she wanted to be a veterinarian.
she wanted to be thin.
she wanted to be pretty.
she wanted to be smart.
she wanted a boyfriend.

you are unemployed.
you are overweight.
you are ugly.
you are dumb.
you have a girlfriend.

she is dead and you are the only one to blame.
because you killed her.

i can't say
i love you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
luminescent
(1 word, 11 letters)

i can't say
i need you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
concupiscent
(1 word, 12 letters)

i can't say
i want you
(3 words, 8 letters)

but i can spell
magnanimous
(1 word, 11 letters)

                                        i started entering spelling bees
                                                   when i was twelve
                                              eight simple letters
                                                      have never been *harder

this state is full of dead bodies.
where i once told you i loved you

this state is where you never felt anything for me.
(but maybe we can still be friends?)

this state is who i once was two years ago
when i held your hand and she took a picture of me kissing your cheek.

this state is where i broke up with my second girlfriend
because she was never going to be enough for me.

this state is where i laid in the bathtub late at night and wondered
what was enough for me.

this state is where i dug up my feelings for you
and waited all day to meet you.

this state is where i buried everything
and became something new entirely.

this state is where the lies began
and where they would end.

this state is where i fell in love again
but it was the same old love story.

this state is where you never loved me.
so i had to get out.

this state is where i started to think about forever
but forever lasted only a week.

this state is where you lied and said you loved me
but i'd never believe you.

this state is where old feelings resurfaced
and i hated myself again.

this state is where my heart lies
shattered pieces scattered between cities.

this state is where i broke
without enough resources to be repaired.

this state will never be enough for me
and i will never be enough for it.

it was more than a week ago
when he burned my hand
and i called you up drunk.

she pulled the phone from my hand
and told me i was making a mistake.
i told her i was calling my mom
and she gave it back to me.

we were on the bus
when i called her
and i smiled at him and i felt dizzy.
she took my phone from my hand
and talked to her.

you didn't pick up so i called again.
ring.
   ring.
     ring.

i whispered in her ear
careful and afraid,
( i n t o x i c a t e d )
"don't tell her what i told you earlier."
she turned to me with an eye roll and said,
"i would never."
he watched us.

hands shaking as i texted you
as steady as i possibly could.
it might have been the third time i told you i love you that month.
you told me to stop texting.

she handed the phone back to me and got off the bus.
i told him to come over here.
he said no.
i sighed and sat next to him.
she was giggling in my ear.

i felt sad.
so i started to smoke.
she took my phone away.
my voice was hoarse from all the cigarettes
and my hands were frozen.
inside, someone turned on all the lights.

i handed him the phone.
he asked if you were my sister.

she gave me back my phone.
i messaged you again.
you said you were bowling.
i said i didn't care.

i hung up the phone and asked him where he was going.
we were alone.
he said orleans, what about you?
i said st laurent.
i told him my sister lives there.

you wouldn't call.
your phone was broken.
it went straight to voicemail.
you said i was drunk.
i said i wasn't.
i said he burned my hands and i made lots of friends.
you said congratulations.

i got off the bus before him.

i said i love you.
you said, "you're drunk."

i said i was scared
and that i was alone.
no one would answer my calls.
i got off the bus at my sisters.
i listened to the strokes.
someone behind me called my name.
i played with the cigarette pack in my pocket.
it was my sister's boyfriend.
he lead me up to their apartment.
they gave me beer.
and ****.

you said i should be talking to her.
i said i'd rather be talking to you.

i met a drug dealer
and tried to roll a joint.
they told me to keep drinking so i did.
it wasn't enough.

you said you were done.
i asked you why but i think i already knew the answer.

"i want to wake up with a hangover."
"keep drinking."

you went to bed.
i told you i love you.
you didn't answer.

i woke up at one in the afternoon
and told her we needed to talk.
i wasn't hungover.
i went out to my friends house.
i played with the cigarettes in my pocket.

i got home and asked you out.
you said yes.

i felt
complete.

watching movies about serial killers again.
failing to see the difference between
what they did to their victims
and what you did to me.

maybe you never
pressed a knife against my neck
or tried to **** me
(so to speak)

but torture is torture
and there were blades against wrists
****** nights spent crying
wishing i was out of your realm
wishing your grip wasn't so right
wishing it was over
wishing i was dead

and maybe unlike a serial killer
you hadn't murdered me
but i sure as hell
wish you had