178

i want every body in coffins,
i want a bomb to explode them, split them in half. i want a giant thorn to cut the world.
i want to feel your insides.

can't you see past my flesh and bones?
underneath there is so much free flowing blood and language,
language that flows up, against the streams.
well, maybe i am a maniac,
but at least i can stand tall as buildings,
and still feel like i belong,
i can look down on all your bodies in coffins,
and still sleep so soundly at night.

177

love sings like cocorosie songs that play on repeat on my computer,
when i'm sleeping, secretly slipping into my ears,
haunting voices make me see beauty, even when my brain is at rest.
yes, i'm sure this is what it sounds like, love,
because i feel the same way now, lying on my bed, suffocating myself under the blankets
than when i have my face buried into your limp sleeping body next to me.

176

i want to take your clothes and hang them in my closet
and pretend that you live here
and imagine that you are simply in the shower, or in another room, working on an essay
or a brand new song.

i'll want to ask you what you are writing about,
if you are having an argument with yourself
or is it with someone else?

i'll want to ask you if it's a love song
or are you angry at something,
but i know not to disturb you, in the next room over,
building up the calluses on your gentle finger tips.

175

music is beautiful.
open your ears, you can hear it,
open your mouth and taste it,
close your eyes and dream it.

174

when it rains i think of you.
it's like architecture, wood on wood, connected by nails in a board
and the raindrops are the nails.
so hammer those gently into my flesh
through the tips of my toes, joints, bare feet on cold floor.
deep into my skull, engraving anthems,

tastes like your eyes.

i never want it to stop raining, you know,
but today is such a gorgeous sunny day.

173

old asian woman,
crossing the street unhurriedly at an intersection,
cars on both sides, like moses opening up the sea.
in her life, she's killed one thousand bugs in her palm
broken four hearts,
seen her own blood on three different continents.
she never thought she'd live past seventy,
and constantly anticipates her legs to give out underneath her feeble yet heavy bag of bones.
shaking, she crosses the street lazily at an intersection,
and with my body pressed against the window in my room, i watch her, knowing i'd never live past forty.

172

your arms cradle me at night time in the street
where headlights are reflected on the shiny ground
suddenly, i remember it was raining earlier,
then i forget again then suddenly remember.
when will you kiss me in this lovely weather?
when will you make me feel light as a feather?
your eyes smiling into tiny little lines in my palms,
chest breathing
when will it no longer be winter?

171

children jumping into puddles,
splashing water on me,
i don't care to get wet today through my toes.
stompstompstomping in tiny pink boots in the rain,
covering tiny little feet, the size of my ears.

today was a good day,
like three elephants, as big as a snow covered hill.

170

he put his gentle hands on my body
and touched where i had been burned
all those months ago, days piled like bricks,
building a house so fragile a yawn would collapse it.

and so i yawned every morning and yawned every night,
hoping these days would break on me.
and they did,
destroyed all the bones in my feet, until i couldn't stand
up straight
until i couldn't stand it.

i'll rebuild my house this time, on a hill next to the ocean
with a basement so wide and deep it'll reach around the earth
and back again.
then in the grey weather, in my beautiful house, he'll touch me again where i had been burned.
i won't flinch,
singing softly the words "my life is not a tragedy".

169

yes,
i am far away from home.

168

i bet if i asked you, you would remember it too
that time we rubbed our feet together in the cold,
under a white blanket, in a bed twice as big as us.
outside, the wind was howling,
but the snow was quiet
and so were we, kissing in whispers.
"do you love me?" and you'll nod and nod and blink and nod into the morning,
nod into the summer.

i held your hand secretly on the bus all the time.
you did too like you'd never let go,
but in your head you already wiped me out, uncarved my name from your memory,
and everyone saw our fingers locked anyway.

it doesn't matter now. i already let go too, a long time ago
i finally don't give a shit about you
not even a little bit.

167: when summer comes

when it's summer time, we are going to cut through hillsides,
cross miles of stony bridges, flip over rocks,
discover the hideouts of tiny insects and crabs,
until a polaroid sunset,
next to a tall cliff we never intended to climb back.

when it gets dark, i know i will get cold and scared,
because i'm mostly made of indecision and nervousness that collide with my pride.
but you probably would have had my hand in yours since the morning,
and then for an entire week without letting go.
so no, i won't be worried.

every afternoon, you're going to examine and ask me about my tiny fingers,
no longer wrapped in warm winter's mittens.
compare them to yours, and my god,
how can they write words that make your skin float like feathers?
just line up our finger prints.
my fears will melts like ice along with the concrete into the night sky.

and you'll ask me about my tiny teeth too, hidden behind stiff lips.
these belong to me, i'll never hesitate to press them against yours.
but you'll still ask me, how can i whisper words and breathe them through the cracks of my teeth?
how can i still sing every night, when each time i open my mouth, my throat rips,
my tongue bleeds,
my jaw dislocates?

my answer will always be "i don't mind" in a voice like a pebble,
because that's the truth and i'll repeat it forever
when i'm chasing you in the summer time.

166

when they touch me, they burn fevers in my body,
that create holes where you'll pour your eyes all over, to the bottom.

nothing can kill me,
not even your rotting spirit,
not a single word,
not a single mountain.

165

don't tell me any of your secrets,
because i already know when you sleep walk and sleep talk around my house.
on silent nights, when even ghosts are whispering,
i'll listen for your quiet murmurs,
telling lonely tales of cruelty and hunger,
telling me how you are weighing you down.

164

what is that smell?
i know there is a man outside the door and he is crying,
hands buried into his face, knees in his stomach, choking on fresh puke,
blood pumping through inadequate veins.
i can hear him and taste his sad behind these walls and cabinets.

nothing blends and nothing mixes.

"did she smoke her dry tobacco cigarettes after you fucked her?"
yesyesyes, and i want to ask, "where are your children? where is your wedding ring?"

my boss wants to raise her fees,
because nothing blends and nothing mixes here.

163

sleep opens my body like heaven from the earth,
i spill out all memories and my shaking voice.
and is this the damned place i've lived since birth?
is this all my soul is worth?

i was born deaf and dumb by choice
but come lie next to me anyway, whisper me some noise.

162

i am summer in july, i am in love.
everything else might as well be dead,
like conductors carried out to sea, a billion passengers on their backs.
if you listen well, sugar, pry open these cracks,
tonight is my wedding, and i'm marrying a dove.

161

one two three and one to three,
trip over me and make me choke,
like our bodies will be, between my sheets,
arms twisting a hundred and eighty degrees.

160

i want to keep your pretty eyes in my pocket
on the inside of my jacket, close to my chest.
at night, i'll put them on the pillow next to me
so you can watch me twist and turn,
watch me grab at seams and scratch at bones.

and i'm sure these dreams will be mine:
swimming in the deep blue of your eyes,
feeling this ocean run between my fingers,
feet fumbling to feel some solid ground,
because water makes me weightless and you lift me with your words.

we all struggle sometimes, but i know we won't give up.

159

i dream of girls with beautiful skin that caresses you in your deepest sleep on sunday morning when the sun is still down beneath the maple tree,
straight to the ground,
so let them wait.

i say these dreams are far from real and real is what we feel when these suspicious sleepwalking girls fumble into the night, vanishing through the sky.
i say, i say, i say,
let them wait.

158

don't light my fire, be my fire.

157: spring is coming

oh lover, can we explore forever?
must we plant our feet into the ground of our boring cities?
i want to touch the tip of every child's nose,
i want to watch every gull break its wings in the sudden rush of southern waves.
i don't need this education, i learned all i need to know,
from writing, making art and making love and kissing you.

so come, come, can we ditch this place?
i just want to live, i just want to grow.

156

i say i'm lucky to be alive,
so i can watch people eating fruit
and feel your hand in mine!
i want to ring wedding bells,
and watch teenagers give each other bite marks on forearms.
i'll lead, and you can follow,
until the vibrations from these kids' cellphones become a song,
as heart breaking as the one i sang in tenth grade,
pulling my lips apart,
teeth apart,
do-re-mi into the night sky.

155

if i could, did you know i'd follow you anywhere?
a million miles into the bottom of the sea,
i'd touch all the fish with trembling fingers,
these tiny vibrations from bone through skin, hidden by the water current that pushes us back home right where we belong.

154

you thought you fell on him
but he was not there to catch you,
i know he won't be there next time,
so stopstopstop and get some rest.

153: happy

whoever zeroes in on this perfect melody
will know that the song wrote itself,
quickly and quietly in my head,
on the way home, laughing, my throat ripping and swallowing blood.

yeah, it was a good time, it's always a good time.
i know this, because this perfect song wrote itself,
just like buildings and grass know to grow upwards towards the sun,
these notes flew into my head,
through my ears, then out between my teeth.
it's so pretty and i promise you i will keep on singing it.

152

tread in my shoes, you.
i am the ghost writer,
i am the car driver,
i can't take you home but i'll take you next door.

151

life is a tiny gift.
because soon, i'll be tasting your breath in a sun-filled bedroom,
my eyes wide open, peeking at your skin,
brushing on our awkward arms.

this is what i want, and this is what i'll have,
but if i ripped open the sky for a thousand years, it would still not be enough.

did you know, dear friend?
in this life,
i am most likely to commit the most evil greed,
and him the most evil envy,
because he knows each time i wrote and each time i write from that moment on, he is no longer you,
and you are no longer him.

150: for the night

and then night came!
how i love the night...
clouds block the dark sky that never reveals its stars.
but look, i can see city windows turning into them,
brightening up my secretly bitter world.
and when i take my glasses off, my vision blurs
and blurs
and b l u r s into a beauty i can't explain to anyone else.

these moving orbs of light on the roads are mine,
the teethless people walking past me,
and the fuzzy smoke in my face from a companion's cigarette.
all of this is beautiful and mine.

yes yes yes, this is the night!
this is the same night those years slip away from the breath of old, shrinking women in their gentle sleep,
the same night and same sleep of birds, of critters, of ships,
and this is when i am dreaming
it is also when i am most alive.

149

suddenly, my mouth is on fire.
with this fire, i'll light stars and moons,
so that the whole universe will glow and guide you home,
safely from my room.

148

tell me, tell me, how do you bleed?
can you hear me?
this is all i need.

147

aut viam inveniam aut faciam.

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.

113: a quote

"i can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all." -n.m.h, 1998

112

i don't want to
but i know
i will forget everything
i used to know.

all those things,
like love and life
will fade to ghosts
and dull like knives.

it just goes to show
that nothing stays, and nothing glows
like love and life and these old knives,
and this winter's snow.

111: something i wrote a long time ago

this is something i wrote in spring, 2007.

-----------

My feet are cold. Yet, it is 30 degrees outside and my roommates are
complaining.

 It's raining outside. Whenever it rains, it pours. The birds and
squirrels hide under the trees. The plants are happy.

 I love the sound of rain. It brings back memories; bad memories and
good ones, too. It makes sure that the past has been real
experiences.

 Sherry is crying in the bathroom. She cries every time the sky
cries. They cry together like they are one. But today, Sherry is
sobbing. Today must be different; something must be happening.

 I think I understand Sherry, unlike most people. I think that when
she cries, she's secretly singing, and I love the songs. I love the
lyrics and all the notes. I love the way she drags them a meter long.
Her face is most beautiful when she cries, but she doesn't cry a lot,
and it doesn't rain a lot.

 I can see people outside, taking each other's hands and drinking
the rainwater in. I want to join them in this celebration. I want to
be part of the rain, make love to the rain.

 But I can't.

 I'm sitting behind a window, and I'm watching, hoping.

 I can't feel my feet. I think I'm dying.

 Sherry, cry for me.

110

baby,
you
are
the
frozen
sea.

109

no,
no,
no.
i know the world
would never want to hurt me.

108

i miss summer.

107

what helps you sleep in lonely nights?
do you think about me,
a limp body lying next to you?

and what would you do,
and how much,
for this warm flesh, not rotting but loving?

if you were a bird, would you give up the sky?
if you were a fish, would you give up the sea?
what about the earth, if you were a tree,
is it all worth it, just to be next to me?

106

oh it's sad, cruel world,
when you make me forget what it means to feel.
but here i am, thanking you,
because today i woke up, bursting with emotion,
my eyes burning the colour of red,
my skin peeling the shade of blue.

yeah, i remember it all now, what love could be,
it's so definitely there,
when i hear that sweet, sweet voice on the phone,
or a recording that has it trapped in time.

it's artificial, but the voice seems so close i can almost taste it in my lungs.

so thank you, world;
thank you for saving this memory for me,
because forgetting then remembering is even better than having it in me all the time.

105

i feel like you know that my fingers can't reach far enough to grab this voice that tangles my veins at night in my deep sleep

where i think i'm awake but it's all a dream and i can't reach far enough to grab your skin that wraps around me, closer tighter tighter than that of my own.

104

stretch my throat, dear god.
there are too many pills i have to take,
too much blood i have to spit
to make new blood
so that i can breathe and
take more pills.

103

i'll throw you into the snowbank like you
threw me into the sea.

this is happiness.

102

the snow won't stop falling on me.
it's barely winter, but i already miss the song of the birds,
your eyes, shining in the sunset of autumn.

in this home i am not home.
in this home, i am surrounded by white walls too cold and too bare.

it's like, if somebody were to strip me down,
peel my skin away,
they would be left with this,
because this is where i am
and this is what i cannot help but be.

101: rest in peace, ally

i'm so, so afraid.
how am i supposed to stand up straight?

i wish i had faith now, so i can pretend i'll see you again.
but don't worry, rest in your silent peace forever,
because as long as i live, i won't forget about you.
i know you're carved into my brain.
you were part of the most amazing week of my life.

i left you a facebook message but i know you'll never see it.
that is so unreal to me.
i wish you would visit,
tell me chilling stories of how you came to be,
and teach me how you simply vanished from the world.

100

what are you thinking about when you look at me
with those eyes, like that?
it reminds me of hungry bellies,
empty, like bedrooms of houses where no one's watching.

give us something else to do
so you'll stop looking at me like that,
because it makes me uneasy
and i'd rather think about how good you smell
than watch those eyes freeze me from head to toe.

99: some very nice lyrics

"my first vision was a bush growing down the river ,
and i couldn't stop crying .
something was missing .
i realized i was in love with a voice.
i called it, again, and again,
but all i heard was the echo in the light" -m83, 2005

98

today's my favourite day so far.

97

you can't do anyone harm,
but you've got secrets you won't share.

nostalgia.

56

i have to pee
but i'm scared that if i leave this room i'll see ghosts
crawling up on the walls in the hall
sucking at my feet
dragging me down like they did to you.

95

what do you want me to say?
because i'll say it just to make you happy.

94

close my eyes then drag me around
this house is down, these streets too narrow.
kiss this smoke and strip in silence
sing along to the morning's sparrow.

i know i've lived once and i'll live again.
loosen your grasp and let me in
back in the room where we stood still,
to peel my skin against my will.

i won't refuse to swallow this pill.

93: for drew

it was very loud in the night time, and i thought to myself,
"this is what we've been reduced to".
we took our tired eyes and tired minds, stumbled home with them,
flipped our soundtrack to side b,
and stumbled out again.

do you get it? this is our life.

this is our life and this is our city;
we cannot sleep like we do elsewhere.
we can murmur more questions,
lose that sound into the dark like the missing day in february.
there is hardly ever an answer,
but there is also hardly a question too stupid to ask.

and whoever she may end up to be,
i hope for you only the best, my dear friend,
because there is something i have that i think i deserve:
a fair boy's fragrant kiss, his warm hands in this cold winter.
you know,
i want you to be happy like i am happy,
live every week like it's the final week,
smile like you're counting snowflakes and sunsets into these magical hours,
because you deserve that and so much more.

92

it's so quiet.

makes me wonder,
was it you who left these scratches on my walls,
and disease on my back?
it must have been,
because this morning when i lifted my head up, and thought i saw you through my window,
your small, round figure in the reflection and hands into fists,
my eyes fell out
and didn't want to crawl back.

91

"fucked it up again, but i'm not looking the other way.
i see my errors and i know i'm wrong, but it's gonna take way more than that,
to change my ways and start thinking straight, be the person i aspire to be.
own up to myself. turn my life around.
make amends to my friends, i owe to myself and them.
pledge of allegiance to myself. so i must fucking say: i will change.
no more selfish ways, no more for # 1; its done.
arrogance is of the past: so i must fucking say: i will change.
so you gonna try, or is it gonna be the same fucking song?
i must find, i'll strive for.
i must find, i'll strive for.
HUMILITY.
so don't lose, don't lose...your way.
don't lose your way.
i said it's time we really take a look at ourselves
and start caring about someone else." -h.h 2006

90

if i could rip open the sky,
and let out all the rain,
i would i would
i would

let all the raindrops drench my eyes,
so they'll moisturize my modest mind.

89: nostalgia

today i stood in front of that cold window again in the kitchen.
only two people live here now.
i tried to imagine what my roommates would be talking about in the kitchen if they were still here.
no, it didn't work.

it's too quiet now.

i remember not too long ago, standing in the same spot,
with coffee in my mug,
thinking about how many more cups i'll have,
checking the time constantly,
waiting for the party to start.

yeah and i remember moving in here that first night,
sleeping in the cold dark room alone for the first time,
curtain pulled up so i can watch the moon and the city,
window open so i can hear the pre-frosh yells of already-drunk first years on the street.

i remember crying myself to sleep and thinking "this is it this is it this is fucking it, right?
i've grown up way too fast.
is this really fucking it?"

88: fuck the world

yeah, i can scream,
and i will.

87

there is no real distance
except the one between our breaths,
and the one between your legs and mine.

86

i heard this angel in my sleep.
she danced in my head,
put cotton underneath my eyelids.
she sang to me until i fell asleep, woke up, then asleep again.

but those notes, they stung me every time, like a needle piercing through my spine.
i don't understand...


have i done something wrong?

85

how come i miss you already?

84: for sean and snow

oh glittery snow,
wrap your delicate selves around my skin,
slip secretly between the strands of my hair!
embrace me until i cannot breathe,
help me ease this tension built up between my brows.

yes, i love him i love him i love him.
i climbed mount fuji and screamed it out.
my voice turned soft, melted into a million cherry blossom pedals.

fifty miles away, a plucked flower wilts,
but i know three others have grown in its place, and together they are prettier than the first.

83

we know this is wrong,

but why do we do it?

82

tell me the story of your skinny ribs.
they tunnel through me for hours at a time,
and i swear i can see stars each time,
sprayed and scattered across a sheltered black sky.

then these stars, they remind me of how you are everywhere.
inside me, all around me,
all filled in this room,
all over these walls.

then when i dream of you, i'm sedated. i can’t tell a fantasy from authenticity
it makes me wonder where i am,

how did i get here?

and

have i reached the top of the mountain?

81

my arm is burning and peeling away this layer on my body;
it's no longer useful.
and i can see your eyes on my ceiling,
spying on me, making sure i play my part.

80

how swollen is your stomach?
did i crawl inside yet,
did i choke on your veins yet?
yes i did,
scratched my name on these walls.
slept until i could not tell the day from the night,
could not remember our names, and how long ago we met.

with these fists, i've made these holes.
how is your swollen stomach?

79

you can strip me of my skin,
but you can't steal my body,
and you can't steal my attitude.

whoa, hey, i see you've unwrapped your broke fists.
it was no use living like that,
under the impression that the light was already bright enough,
i'm glad you're all better now.