146: nice dream last night

in my dream, i stood by your side
on a grassy hill, watching the sun rise.
april wind blew through the tall grass,
and i was wearing a cardigan and a favourite dress,
and you wore a smile and sleepy eyes.
my skin was splashed golden like buildings back home,
and your eyes were the color of ancient streams,
where we wrote words in the sand like poetry,
with quick and slow strokes too, saying good morning again to consciousness.

145

my city not only stretches,
it grows upwards like a flower towards the sun,
and it digs into the ground like an anchor in the dirty sea.

i wonder when and i wonder where
will my body become the city?
my eyes are ponds,
my fingers are the street lamps, tips lit at 3am.

i could say more, but i won't.
i just want my smile to be the sun that keeps this place alive.

144

i no longer want to breathe this filthy air.

143: forgive but not forget

feed me heaven,
feed me hell
give me bruises
that we know will swell.

this way i'll remember for sure
the harsh years sleeping in my body,
injuries that are wrapped and cloaked by slim strips of skin
'round and around,
twisting like this crane i still watch
like sorry and sickly people i can't dodge.

my life is this life and this is life.
i'll spend days and nights alone
if it means no one will ever drag me down.

142

back two lives ago, i was a fish,
fat and healthy, i swam miles and miles,
from a pond down a river,
through a lake to the sea.

for how many years, did i live without seeing the ground?
i knew i lived centuries,
i grew legs and crawled on the bottom of the ocean floor.
how many years, did i live without seeing the ground?
ten thousand years, a hundred thousand years,
so why is it that when i feel light on my feet now,
when i'm an exhale away from flying,
i get scared, and drag myself back down to the flat of the earth?

141

you are made of water, you know,
and you swim between my sorrowful groans,
like a ghost, inside this house of flesh and muscles.

every night, until 5am, you will flow and you will glow,
because that's how long it takes to fix my broken bones.

140

you are one of the sweetest dreams of the century.

139

if i were a map, i'd erase myself
and draw you closer to me.
i'd paint the mountains all the same,
but move our houses close to the sea.

yours can be next to the giant palm tree,
and mine will be further down the road,
and every morning we can smell the sea
where we'll swim and swim as if we are free.

138

how many times must i sink
before my stomach pulls in,
flip me inside out,
pull me back on my feet?

i'm so sick of this winter air.

137

nights, crawled and infested with ghosts.
like a whisper, they enter one ear and out of the other,
so when i sit alone with the lights off, i can hear them breathe my name,
and choke me like they killed summer.

136

life is amazing. i can't wait to be born again.

145

stay with me.

144

today i dreamt about candlelit dinners,
tiny fires that brighten up your neighbours' backyards,
opening them up so we can explore to the edge of the light.

in this day dream, we are sitting in a boat with wooden paddles,
and my arms feel so incredibly sore,
and of course, this is somehow still your backyard.

then the moon hides away in deep, black clouds,
above the grass, littered with fireflies.
then you remember the mug i made,
the one that holds lemonade
once fresh, seconds and minutes and hours ago.

the mug i made,
painted for you, gold like the sun,
watches us as you unwind my bones,
unwrap my skin,
cut me so deep i'll forget how to make a sound.

133

i want to run laps around the city,
with my crippled legs and crippled feet.
i'll find the most perfect place to plant a kiss in your hands,
and leave you there until dusk then dawn,
for three days and three nights with no food, but water,
and by the time i return maybe you'll be all good and all grown
and all mine.

132: love again

i'm going to remember love again,
just like i want to have dreams again,
where i dance in the mountains,
just like i did and just like i do.

i want to hold my breath and slip under the cold sea,
and tangle my hair with grass,
scrape my feet on rocks,
burn myself in those black volcanoes.

and maybe there, our bodies will touch
because you are the password to me,
and i am the password to you,
and these roads that used to be forks now intertwine,
coming together as one,
carrying us home
slowly, slowly, softly,
smoothly,

deeply

in

our

sleep.

131

lately, i haven't been able to write too easily.
i don't know why.
i've become blank like paper.

i can't feel anything except hot in my cheeks
and cold in my feet.
my face is numb,
sorry that i can't smile sincerely.

looks like the winter has caught me again!
the winter has caught everyone,
freezing our heads and our faces and feet.
i'll sit at home all day and comfort everyone else.

it makes me feel better about my own short life.

but here, life throws me another blue eyed boy.
but look, it's winter and i'm stuck in a tree,
maybe he can help me down and melt me into perfect precious puddles
like i used to be.

130

my life is surreal.


it'll take me a while to remember how to feel
again.

129: dreaming of moving

the birds turn around and their bodies are like trees
roots into earth like their claws into me
high or low, they can't fly now because it's winter.
they must sleep, and dig deep their roots
into earth like claws into me.

only when i'm asleep,
do these birds and the trees
haunt me and ask me the severest of questions.

i can never answer but this much i know:
not only must i leave, i must also never go back.

128

yeah, you're rising,
mountainous islands,
waiting for conquerors to overthrow you
waiting for farmers to abuse you,
plant these seeds into your flesh,
grow grains, hemp, plants with no berries.

rising mountains, rising islands,
are you just like me?
would you sit for an eternity
waiting for the right bees
to pollinate your flowers on your sacred, lovely trees?

127

god bless your sweet, sweet smile,
i hope it never goes away.
even in this freezing weather,
i'll pray that it stays.

126: my happy life

i forgot about my crane, but it didn't forget me.
i've been too preoccupied, but now i'm free.
i'm so sorry for everything; i'm so thankful for everything.
now, i no longer look at this dear friend outside my window with dull, sad eyes.
i know that life goes on and on. rivers into seas, through mountain tops,
and on those exact cold peaks i will scream about my happy life.

surely, you must have loved me a lot.

i promise this to myself:
i promise i will live until my life runs out, and be re-born again and again.
time ticks, time flies, but time never runs out,
and i look forward to meeting you over and over again.

i know i will remember you,
and just like time, the taste of your skin will never fade.

125

life, you are pretty ok after all.

124: sad but i'm happy

this morning, the footprints i left in the snow last night were still there,
completely untouched.
it was almost unbearable, but i went out of my way to retrace my footprints,
now facing the other way.

this morning, the world was so far away.
a distance i cannot measure with the length of my arms.
but not the clouds: they stretched as far as foreign seas; smothering my sky.

where does the world end and where did we start?
and when did your eyes start matching my mood?
i don't know, but after my terrible sleep i think i understand.

i understand this like the clouds and the snow,
and we can meet there, where the wind blows.
yeah, remember our clouds and our snow
and our cold faces from days ago.
i love you and you probably love me too.
it was really fun, and something i will be missing for a very long time.

123

if we freeze, what can we do?
if we run, who's gonna catch up with us?
swimming the seas,
choking the air,
we're just like fish in the ocean.
"if we freeze, i want to freeze next to you."

122

i can't do this anymore.
i'm sorry.

my life is not a game.

121: it's all i can do, i guess

tell me where you keep your knife
is it in your drawer or in mine?
i need it because these days you're sad,
i'll cut my flesh and patch you back
to when you were smiling like you belonged to the sun
i'll cut my legs off and you can use them to run.

120

me and you and you and me?

119: sad today

i never thought i'd feel this way again.
but today i have twisted and turned my muscles
until my brain melted into sand,
and smile into running, remote rivers.

i know that when it snows tonight i will settle and watch,
wait until it strips me of everything.
and just like seattle and its pretty rain,
toronto will look after me with its cold burden.

118

in my dreams, trees crawl over my body.
vines wrapping around my bones,
leaves engulfing me, eating my hair and finger nails.

there are a million holes in me.



plants move towards water,
so it was no surprise that these (and a forest more),
after my stomach has been cut open,
have chosen me as their source of food.

they know that the lake is near,
but they can also smell the ocean in my lungs.

117

welcome home, ghosts.

116

are you mad at me?
did i do something wrong?
i feel a bit strange; maybe you don't agree.
i'm just trying to sing you a song.

115

your heart leaks warmth onto my frozen feet.

114

all this food and all this water.
it's more than enough to feed me for another year.
i bathe in sugar and scrub with salt,
sail over the high seas,
and the lows,
to catch that flu and final spice
that pierces me through my tongue,
so deep that i can feel it at the ends of my hair.

i breathe winter and i breathe fall,
and when that's gone, i'll press you up against my wall,
your fingers will bleed, but my body will numb,
but i'll still feel your weight over me.