Singing with a stolen voice
Borrowed tongue, the song of choice
Would have to be
Of ice and fire majesty.

To run from here on others' feet
A differed meter, with which to meet
A girl whom I've known before
Though now we drink and gamble more.

Her persona, then, was gently sore;
I see none of the scars we bore
As children, though now I see
The scars she left now complete me.

Fall in love with yourself.

Learn how to be infatuated
with the veins in your hands
and the stretchmarks on your tummy.
Make your own heart race
as you whisper those
three words,
eight letters
to yourself
over and over again.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

And mean it.

If you can learn how to
profess your undying love
to the naked, scared figure
in the mirror,
you can learn how to
daydream about a future
where you
and that person
are finally happy.

If you can give
a piece of your heart
to that stranger on the bus,
why can't you give everything
back to yourself?

You,
who picked your broken self up
after dropping to your knees
one too many times.

You,
who dragged your ***
to the toilet
after drinking the night away
(even though you promised
that you wouldn't do it again).

You,*
who wasn't always there,
but tried to make it up to yourself
by covering your wounds
with purple plasters
and starlight.

Because when people
turn out their pockets
with no spare love
to hand to you,
you will stuff your hands into yours
and give them some of your own
without ever running out of supply.

... and there's a smile on my face
riddled with disgust
and smothered in mace
If I could I would grin
but my teeth are puzzle-chipped
and my lips won't cave in
and my eye stalks are being pulled at ;
I've bin' drinkin' Acid Gin

Now you ...

There's mocking in your voice
You're talking down at me
(I couldn't ignore you more)
I wish we had a choice
We continue
We're both in animal pain
I wish we'd shut up
I wish it would Rain

"Wanna hang 'round this old ruin
and hold hands
and pass blank looks to and fro
and lie on our backs
and think of such to say
and throw sticks at the stars
and blow our minds on cheap tricks and alcohol ?"

"There's nothing left to last
nothing left to lose
So let's burn down this house
and throw away your shoes
Let's climb all the trees
and live in their clutches
then tear down their branches
and cut off the bark
and destroy all their chances
Then we'll move from there
back to civilisation
to the Hotel Of Despair
where we'll stare down the walls
and work on repair. "







Previously published [Show Thieves 2010 : An Anthology Of Contemporary Montreal Poetry - 8TH HOUSE PUBLISHING]

I mean how much of a hypocrite can you be?
How can you dare list off all of the
Wonders and beauty in a person
Who still winds up alone
Every night
With nobody quite caring how they're really
Doing
Because "Who them? They're perfect nothing ever goes wrong there."
But she sits down after
Highlighting every beautiful thing in life
While smiling and making everyone laugh
And feel loved and cared for and included
Watching them embrace a lover or a friend
Who really really cares for them,
Looking at each other with sparkles in their eyes or just cracking jokes and genuinely having a good time
And she's alone, smiling slightly and softly
Trying to figure out exactly what she's been doing wrong all her life because she's a little shy but she always cares deeply and she always loves, and she tries to keep up conversation
And she really puts her best effort into making everybody happy
Yet every day she's alone
Despite the accolades and the "you're so great"s and smiles in her face
She wonders why she's no one's real favorite
And maybe if nobody really loves the girl who
Everybody likes
And if she's just something
A wallflower
Which sometimes people stop to admire
Or maybe she's too perfectly presented on
The outside for someone to love.

So she breaks at night
And repairs herself each morning
To live with a hope
A desperate hope
To maybe one day see more than admiration
Something deeper than lust
In someone she loves
When they look at her.

Maybe she's too hopeful
But someday it will happen
Right?

you tried to repair
the home we made,
but every stair
buckled under your weight,
and every wall
peeled at your touch