Dying to survive 

It’s a season of death, of barrenness and destruction.

It’s a time for endings…for closing the doors on the past…for walking away and shedding tears…and saying goodbye…

You cannot escape it, this starving time.

You cannot trick it away or soothe it into compliance. It is ravenous. It will binge and it will glut and it will eat away at everything you ever had, ever were, the very core of your existence and it will leave you with NOTHING…not even a path of crumbs to follow home.

You cannot give it up.

All you can do…is give in.

Open your arms to emptiness. Open your heart to the void. Fall completely into darkness…and keep falling…
Until at last you feel like you’re flying.
Innocent and free, as you were meant to be.

It’s a season of loneliness. Of asking yourself why.

Remember that the questions are more important than the answers.

Remember that YOU are all you need.
It is the season…and like all seasons, it too shall pass.
And there will be spring again.

There will be renewal, rebirth, and you will rise from the ashes.

Maybe not in this same body, this same form…but you were promised an eternal essence, not an eternal life. Eternal love.

Eternal memory. Eternal BEING…in whatever form that may take…

For it is in dying that we truly learn what it means to live.


Naked and stripped bare to my organs.

There is nothing I can say, safely.there are changes and motions and stillness

that have left me naked and stripped to my bare organs;

the heart being the evident one.

what can I do now with this?

dress myself up? 

keep all hope down?

there is no home yet. no place, no heartbeat, no whisper.

I have buried this many times,

it resurfaces as if it was a gore tale.

It comes out, almost shining its light

to face my own little darkness.

I hate that I love. 

yet I live because of it.

I re-member, and arrange and continue,

awake, barely.

trying to weigh my feet down I find myself,

after all these years.

No more an angel I wish to be;

but I still wonder, I still look at the sky.

You know? I still write, how ironic.

I still am who I was, 

but less. much less. 

and with it I have not become more.

I use the word I still. 

(is it even considered a word?)

I battle my thoughts with your logic.

I silence my own naive narrative,



who knows why I am even allowing it.

I question my intention every step of every way,

even though I have no way.

Lost as it were, moving slowly,

in rhythm with the desire of not wanting more distance.

I died. I did die.

Just like love I still try to resurface.

Every so often I smile. bot not for long.

not an adult smile.

because there is no real reason to.

not with a broken heart. 

a heart that should be empty by now. 

but it is full,

of you.

And I carry that weight, that life that never happened.

That night, that day, that phrase, that word, that whisper,

that imagined touch,

I re-live it to live.

I have yet to get sick of it. 

at least as much as it got sick of me.


How ?

How do you forget something that’s so integrated into yourself? 

How do you rip the memories from your flesh without bleeding? 

How do I tear out the emotions without killing that small piece of myself?

 I’m burning for an answer, but I always end up with more questions.

Angels & Constellations

There’s cracks in the bedroom ceiling. 

we looked up from our place on the ground as we slept on hard-wood floors

and claimed we could pin-point certain constellations

and we were dragging black crayons between the lines

because (for the first time) we wanted to prove something to ourselves.

We weren’t out of minds just yet.

we shifted the bed to the other side of the room

and moved the dresser in front of the window;

to block out memories of the outside and all the hurt we’d felt before.

we’d sweep up dust-angels and watch them follow our lungs down.

We weren’t ready to leave just yet.

incense would burn holes in our eyesight and fog our common sense

and we’d watch the smoke twist around our fingers all night long.

we were twirling and swirling and curling our toes

beneath the summer sun and glow of artificial light until we couldn’t feel a thing.

i don’t think we could support ourselves.

There’s cracks in the bedroom ceiling.

and you left behind a letter addressed to what you saw in me,

stained with howling winds and the wolves that hid in the shadows.

you said you missed the outside but you were lying and now you’re gone.

i threw stones at the door and cried all night;

now this is just another empty apartment.

i moved the bed again

but i still can’t stop waking up on the wrong side.

I want to love you

I want to fall in love with you, I want to so badly. I want to be there for you in every way imaginable. I want to hold your hand and stand by your side through the trials and tribulations that are thrown in your way. I want to be there to help you celebrate your victories. I want to be there for you from beginning to end. I want to be the person you trust the most and confide in, I’d give anything to carry that responsibility. I don’t want to betray you; I want the capability to be utterly honest and trustworthy to you.

I want to be the shoulder you go to when you need one for support. I want to be the small and frail set of arms you long for when you need a hug. I want to be the person you seek out when you need to be showered with affection. I want to be there waiting for you while you’re gone. I want to be the one longing to come back to you when I’m gone. I want to give you everything I have, my heart, my body, my soul, my love, my servitude and devotion. I want you to look past the fact that I’m broken or defective goods and love me anyway. I don’t care about the demons you may have on your back or your little imperfections; to me they make you perfect. I don’t care if you have a past or enough baggage to sink a nation…I do too and I want to carry it all with you (not for you.)

I want to snuggle with you at night, smelling your T-shirt and hugging up as close to you as I can. I want to not want to let you go. I want to touch your face tenderly and cover it with feathery kisses. I want to run my thumb softly along your eyelashes while you’re sleeping. I want to become irritated with your snoring and talking in your sleep until I hear you mumble my name. I want to complain about your cold feet touching me at night or fight with you over the covers. I want to send your ass packing to the couch. I want to loveevery fibre   of your being, because they make you who you are, and I want to love you. I want to go to you when I’m upset and hurt just to be engulfed in your arms. I think I’d feel safer there than anywhere else. I want that feeling of security I know you can give me. I want to break down crying, completely heartbroken only to have you mend me back together just by holding me close and whispering to me reassuringly. I want to give you peace.

I want to laugh my ass off at you and your seriousness . I want to listen to your filthy jokes and your terrible impersonations because they really are funny even though I don’t want to admit it. I want you to laugh at me and call me weird nicknames because of my unconventional habits. I want to form as many inside jokes with you as I can and remember them all just so I can send you random messages throughout the day that won’t make sense to anyone but us. I want you to laugh at the messages until you cry and when your coworkers or friends ask what’s so funny, you can’t explain it, you just laugh until they think you’ve gone insane. I want to be the one to make you smile. I want to talk politics with you and debate the meanings of life and love. I want to develop our own philosophies together. I want to make important and life changing decisions with you.

I want to do favors for you, saying: “Ok…but you owe me,” not because I actually want something, it just means I’ll get to spend more time with you. I want to get so mad at you sometimes that I end up feeling ashamed of myself and ask for forgiveness even though it actually was your fault. I want you to do the same with me. I want you to roll your eyes at me when I get on your nerves, forcing me to pinch you in retaliation. I want you to pinch me back. I want to get into pinching wars with you. I want you to tell me when I’m doing something wrong or annoying (just so I can pinch you back yet again to get even.) I want to wrestle with you! I want to land on top and pin you down, and gloat about how I won even though we both know you let me just so you could have a ‘nice view’.

I’d like to be able to lay my head on your shoulder not because I’m sleepy, but because I get to be closer to you in a sneaky way. I want you to hug me from behind and seductively kiss my shoulder. I want to bury my face in the nape of your neck and tickle you unexpectedly with my eyelashes. I want you to call me silly for doing so followed by: “but for some odd reason I love you anyway.” I want to spend an entire Saturday in bed with you. I want to make memories with you; good ones, bad ones, sweet ones, funny ones, ridiculous ones, kink rated ones…I just want to share them with you and you alone.

I want to hurt in your absence; I want that pain deep inside my chest. I want to feel like I’m the loneliest person in the world when you’re gone. I want the excitement I know I’m bound to feel upon your return. I want the knowledge that I belong to you and you belong to me. I want you to know you always have someone to turn to and I want for us to be together even if some people may not agree with our union. I want the stress and frustration that come with the difficulties in a relationship because it means you come attached. I want you to want to be with me despite all the factors that may be stacked against us. I want to fight those factors with you. I may not want to spend the rest of my life with you just yet, but I want to consider it someday. I want you to want a future. I want to see you succeed in life, not just financially, but I want to see you happy and enjoying life to its fullest. I want the reassurance that you’ll live up to your potential and become someone that’d make me even more proud of you than I already am.

I want to experience crazy love with you. I want to spend an entire day washing your car only to end up with us dirtier than the car was to begin with. I want to spray you in the face with the hose and then have you chase after me and tackle me to the ground. I want to stay up all night watching horror movies with you until I’m too scared to go to sleep. I want to sit quietly and listen to you play your guitar while you sing some of the poems I wrote and you turned into songs.  I don’t think anyone could do my words better justice than you could even though I’m slightly biased. I want the songs to make me cry and then have you gently wipe away the tears. I want to jump your bones afterwards and take advantage of you (none too gently I might add.) I want you to want me to take advantage of you. I want you to take advantage of me in return.

I want us to sit in comfortable silence while I sketch a picture of you without your knowledge. I want you to know what I’m actually doing, but stay silent so as not to ruin the moment. I want long talks with you about the dumbest things as in subliminal messaging in cartoons. I want to watch you laugh and smile, and because of this I want to fall in love with you all over again. I want to undress you with my eyes.

I want you to tell me I don’t need to wear makeup because I’m beautiful without it even though we both know if I went outside looking the way I do in the mornings I’d scare small children. I want you to talk me out of getting my nose pierced, but end up taking me to get my first tattoo instead. I want to fight over little things with you like what radio station to play or what channel to watch on the TV. I want to argue with you over whether to go to Burger King or McDonald’s until we finally compromise on Eddie Rockets even though neither one of us likes their food. I want to hate your video games the way you hate my indie music. I want you to teach me how to play whatever you play only to have me accidentally beat you. I want to laugh at you while you rant about ‘beginner’s luck’ and say: ‘it was a fluke’. I want to get competitive with you. I want to place bets with you over random things.

I want to go moshing with you. I want you to be overprotective of me and make sure I don’t get run over by a hoard of drunk guys. I want to get into an argument in the middle of the pit over some stupid or meaningless thing. I want the make-up sex afterwards when we get home. I want your friends to like me, I want to like them.  Basically, I want a life with you in it. I want a relationship with nobody but you. I know I’m normally picky and have a lot of faults, but you have touched my heart in a way no one has before and all I want right now is for you to accept me. I will be there for you and I will love you unconditionally because I want to fall in love with you and you alone and I believe you’re worth the effort. I believe everyone deserves love, including us, and you’re the only one I want to fall in love with.

I want to make you feel loved, accepted, cherished, appreciated, and far more special than you can ever imagine because that’s what I want you to mean to me.

No refunds 

take. take. take.

i’ll allow you to burrow holes into me,

if you need a place to feel safe and warm

but remember to give something back.

i don’t want to be left with nothing again.

because i don’t want to be nothing


You’re much stronger than you think 

I’ll be the first to tell you

scissors don’t need to be brought to a wrist

to cut deep

because cutting off your heart from you head,

or yourself from your dreams,

is also enough

to make you bleed

and there’s ink spilled all over these pages,

and at times it seems tears 

are cheaper than water from a spout:

these lines need diluted,

these blots are a dark, dark sea
and maybe I’m not too good at swimming,

even if it’s just through a pool of ink

but I’ve learned if you just keep paddling,
you’re much stronger than you think.













Un un un.

It seems to make me.

I’m always un.

But it’s these un’s that make me stronger too.

I will become unstoppable,

as the years go on.

And come out unbloodied,

in the fight of life.

I, along with everyone else,

just have to go though some unfortunate things,

before we can unbarricade these walls,

and become open to the world.

We just have to remember,

be unbashful,

unbox our feelings and opinions,

and uncap the inspiration and intelligence,

that I KNOW we all have inside us.
Live on,
and do it proudly.

Imagine That

Imagine that you are made of stars.
A hundred million tiny points of light that make you more beautiful than anyone else. Imagine that, all at once, you are in every wonderful place in the world. Everything looks like cupcakes and sounds like your favourite song. Imagine that you are everything you ever wanted to be and that there is no such thing as happiness because you never need to feel anything other than perfectly, beautifully content like those blissful moments between sex and sleep. Imagine that all around you, existence swirls by like golden autumnal leaves that have been snatched up for a waltz by the breeze. Imagine that all the best moments of your life are pieced together to create everything that is happening to you. Imagine being able to feel the binds of his restraints around your wrists with the taste of his skin on your tongue. Imagine that every time you breathe, it smells of him and every time you blink, his slow smile spreads across the insides of your eyelids. Imagine that you don’t know how to do anything other than be in love.

Imagine that, one at a time, all of the stars are extinguished and you start to fade away. Imagine that, as quickly as your heart can beat, a sparkling star becomes a flake of ash that falls and drifts away from you. Imagine that all of the beauty surrounding you disintegrates into itself until it becomes a mass of liquid nothingness at your feet. Imagine a stillness so silent that you wonder how anything could ever have been real. Imagine the fear you feel as you realize that you are losing yourself . You are left alone, in an almost-dark space staring into a pool of everything that you once had but didn’t deserve, knowing that it could only have been a matter of time before fate realized its mistake. Imagine that you are staring at what should have been forever, wishing on the last few stars that are left that this is just a dream, and wondering how it is possible for one person to be this broken.