To spend money
and buy a gift
would truly only declare
that I
have money to spend.
To pick some flowers
and present them to you
would mean that I have time
to dig my hands into dirt
and show you the things
that grow in it.
And so instead
I will write you something,
hoping to be understood
that words mean more to me
than most things in life,
and to share that
expresses more than I do
on an average day
(because it is no revelation
that I hide my face
and all my secrets).
And so I try most days
to be the child I once was
but I appreciate my knowledge
and my grown up self
just a little too much,
and even though life
dug a sharp blade
in my tender flesh
I am still growing into the woman
I had hoped I would be.
I make a living of writing
about ghosts
about the people
who no longer exist
who have grown and changed
while I remain
with my pen
lingering over the past
and the people I thought
they would always be
Things I Will Remember
Walking home at 2am
singing as loudly as we drunkenly can
to No Diggity in the streets of Toronto.
The way you looked like you’d been slapped
when I didn’t tell you in advance
to show up and support me when I sang.
A group hug in a cold bus stop shelter
obnoxiously laughing as we waited
and huddled to keep each other warm.
A kiss on the cheek at Tom’s place
when I realized I didn’t need to be
so scared anymore.
The nerves that first day
when I had to introduce myself
to 40 soon-to-be family members.
A room that couldn’t fit half of us
to call my home for eight months
where I learned more than in a class.
Hands, no longer afraid to touch me
and I no longer afraid to receive
the kindness of others.
Bad days turned good
by only the sight
of faces once foreign to me.
The way you made me feel special
and loved, when I didn’t believe it,
you have reminded me.
You must be careful now
you can have no idea
just what it does to me
when you are softly near
with your full lips so close
and all I want to do
is lean in slow to close
the impenetrable space;
and your arms around me
squeezing to hold back fear
I want to wrap myself
urgently up in you;
and you defend my heart
my honour and my pride,
you are simply a prince
searching for his princess;
and you talk of Batman
as I watch your lips move,
I am so mesmerized
I can never go back.
I have never wanted to be saved,
except for by you.
I will care for you
as none has ever before
and I will think of you
in-between sleep and waking
and I will wonder how you are
When you ask how I am
I will respond with enthusiam
and most likely forget
to ask you back
I study society
how it twists and bends for people
and mostly how it doesn’t
but I will misplace its customs
more often than not
I will not forget you
even thirty years down the line
when my name is bitter on your tongue
and her beauty will not escape you
I will be aware of you in every context
be curious of your frown
or of your smile
but I will not ask
I will come off rude
insensitive to the sensitive
but I will care
my limbs simply shaky
from setting down past baggage
I am rusty at talking
and horrid at showing truth
but no one will care for you
more than I do.
i often wonder
if you know
just how undesirable
i feel inside
and if that is the reason
for why you try
so very hard
to make me feel
incredibly special
The world depends
on whether or not
a sip of wine
will throw me straight
off a building.
Whether blood will spill
if I take a moment
to shoot rubber bullets
off a smudged mirror.
And whether my insecurities
will eat me alive
if I blink too fast
while peddling a bike
on a tight-rope.
It depends on a kiss
forgotten too quickly
from a boy
whose lips never
touched mine.
On whether or not
my hands sweat too much
when I hold a batch
of thorny roses.
The world depends
on whether or not
a stained childhood
can determine
a future.
