i talk a big game.
i joke and poke fun at the boy

but he really is the best thing i have going for me right now.
& i don't like that i have that much....
that he holds so much power over me.

life will go on if he
(when he)
leaves me.

but i like that i actually feel better after we fight,
and not worse,
because we fight clean,
& finally actually fix the problem.
it's never been like that before.

& i like how you want to make this work.
& i like how your eyebrows tell stories.

i want to keep you.
i want to stay with you.
i can give it up

My weapons:
my sarcasm, my teeth,
my sexuality, my coldness
my reality, my need for definition.
my nails, my hair.

i can lay them down and away for you.

do you see them for what they are?
do you understand?
naive, i adore you.
you don't see me the way i am sometimes.

or, then again, you do.
unable to see these weapons and parts
you see beyond them.

see me dancing in pink
laughing wide
see me small and sad
see me trying to keep my head up-
that's really all any of us are doing.

because im smaller with you.
im not the
ever expanding mess
that i have been.
im small and weak and young and normal.
it's fine tonight.
you hold tiny me close
and stroke my back.
i could scream right now and you'd be alright
you wouldn't run.
you wouldn't even hear the scream
just the thought behind it.
i look up and see you
see you wanting nothing more
than to keep me safe.

i thought you like a father once.

further speculation has lead me
and my scientific mind
(my hands dividing everything into base pieces,
claiming and sorting and arranging)
to believe that you take the stance more of
a
(heaven forbid)
protective
(loving
husband)

cottage thoughts

its bitter
but i dont mind,
you're oh so sweet
i can rest
finally rest
[myheadtuckedunderyourarmicantbreathe]
with honesty.
tears marring my eyes
just slightly
i dont want to let go.
now that i've finally broke free.
i dont want to lose this.
i feel
you feel-
we
this               feels so
         oh so
rare.
like glass- like beach glass
washed and rounded and smoothed
but still fragile
don't drop me
                 you
                  us
                   this


floating
just floating
just existing
my thoughts
dont need a 
trail of bread crumbs
or a string or a path at all
knowledge without thought
thought
you can't trace
content.
its fine
everything is
is
is okay.
you're my inner view
ill make you fly.


such little things
my dad
masked
cutting grass as tall as my knees
three air mattresses staked to lie on.
washing my hair 
hand-me-down-shorts
sprawling out
mosquito coils
air dried clothing you can smell the difference.






ive never had
someone
a boyfriend
as great as you.
im not looking back
for once.
for once its all now and soon and eventually.
how you found me
and why you want(ed) to keep me
escapes me.
me and my messy hair cold nature sarcastic comments vapid mind useless words needy obsessive jealous careless lazy indecisive self.
so why are you holding my hand?
why do you kiss me on the mouth in a way that calls me special and priceless?






my dad is not a cuddly man.
at times he is downright
clausterphobic
but seeing him
hold my tiny mother
while she sleeps
like its both natural and magical
warms my heart
knowing he's so uncomfortable 
even as he tries to hide his grin from me.
they love the shit out of each other.
they make each others eyes sparkle
and getting close to fifty
he'll still reach for her hand
and she fills his days with words
and silly little things.

and the living is easy

weheartit

reaching up to touch my hair

(out of habit, out of nothing)

the tips of my digits graze something

-what is that?

retracing my steps i-

oh-

its the braid 

from two nights ago

that you wove in a quiet moment

for no real anything.

you never tied it.

had i not washed it out of-

once, twice? twice.

a smile plays on my lips

funny it should be

be there 

with no fuss and bother.

just like you.

the back of my head, the back of my brain,

youre here. 

  im writing again.

my heart is happy- isnt it funny?

i thought, for so long,

that i could not be happy 

could not love anyone else but you

but look at me.

im so different.

even different than i was with you.

no i dont love him.

but i could.

i could.

life with him is possibilities

is adventure

is romance from a novel i would read.

i like him. i want him.

i needed him in my life.

i need him still.

i want to keep him around.

so thank you

for letting me go.

for missing out.

and for letting me be free.

because im not tied to you
thank god

im not bound to you like i was

and little bird found someone she wants to sing with.

at least
at least
at least i said it.
at least i opened my mouth and my heart
and i let you know.
that i love you
from the bottom of my heart.
from the bottom of my person.
you don't love me.
i know that.
i wish i didnt.
i wish you did.
i wish we had been back in that room with your hand touching me and our faces connected and i didnt pull away and i didnt have to say it right then because in those moments we could have been magic but now
now?
at least you know.
at least i said it.
but i still feel
awful

<3

maybe i'm just a fool
but you make me fall in love with rainy days.
and when you look into my eyes, i can't breathe
because its like when the grinch stole christmas
and my heart is growing.
and thats something i need to work on.
now the days are flying by
and i just fill them best i can
waiting for the day you are home again
and maybe decide
you'd like to make home a place with me.
we can leave the butter out
i don't mind.
ill make the bed and
kiss you on the cheek.
because you make me love even the rainiest of days
when you're sitting here
looking into my eyes,
and telling me why you love central park
and how you missed making me shoot coffee out my nose.

you are the right kind of person to fall in love with

http://xremembermyheartx.xanga.com/

 www.fuckyeahskinnybitch.tumblr.com

 http://www.flickr.com/photos/rlnaen/3746363719/

but I'm just not brave enough to love you the way I want to

look around you, cause you're not alone

When I wake up in the early morning
my arms search
the cool sheets for you.
You aren't here.
You nevere were.

And now,
tonight,
my whole body is inkstained.
and when i wash
i'll know when i am clean.

i hate being ignored.
but you arent ignoring me.
you simply arent around.
you arent here
which hurts the most.
If you're going to go,
go.
though you were never here.

the trees smiled at me today,
and the wind kissed my arms.
i like when they do that.
sometimes i pretend that you're there with me.
Think of it.
Walking in the heat
stopping for a lazy kiss
whenever we need
or selffishly want on.
think of it.
bare feet in the house.
no need to cover up.
we can leave all the windows open
we can leave the butter out.
i don't mind.

i'd be lying
if i said that any of the others meant so much to me-
it's always been you.
its you in the morning when i wake up, and try to forget you aren't here.
its you when i'm walking to work,
its you when i'm lying next to him,
its you when i can't fall asleep
its you when im dreaming.
i'd be lying if i said
i havent always loved you.
id be lying if i said i could go on just as well.
and i'll be crying
the day you leave again
because now i know
its been me too.
its been me when you were with her.
its been me in the back of your mind.
and it'll be you
and it'll be me
when we go back to our respective places on this earth
that just happen to be
thousands of miles apart.
it's you today.
how could i never find the words til now?
i love you.
don't leave me again.
please

A response I wrote long ago to Bev's blog re: high school relationships.


Bev, I'm afraid I must disagree. High school relationships are not pointless.
I think high school is such a difficult and often sad time, that we need to get as much joy from it as possible.
I think that the more we learn and practise love, the better it will be and the more ready for it we will be when we find that right person.
And besides, how will we know the right one if we don't know the wrong ones?
I'm in a highschool relationship right now. I'm happy with him in a way that I was not before. Which is neither to say that I was not happy before, or that should things end, I'll never be happy again. The trick is keeping your grasp of reality with you at all times. On that note, I would not even say that I'm in love with him, or have even ever truly been in love with anyone.
Each relationship is differnt. Each person is different, and we ourselves are everchanging individuals. I know more about myself as time goes on and as each lover and friend comes and goes; who I am, what I want, what I need out of life, and who fits with me and where I'm going.
Relationships are about having this partnership. This (mostly) united front against the evils of the world. It's about having support. It's about giving it. Someone you can call and tell them all the things that went wrong that day, and not worry about them judging you. Some you run to, to tell them you got the part and failed the test.
Some who'll understand, or at least try. Someone who'll pick up and love the little things about you that you never even noticed yourself
[ I hold my cigarettes like a pencil, and bit my lip when I'm nervous ]
It's about having that feeling that something just works.
What;s wrong with finding happiness with someone at a young age? Everything must end, yes, but why should the future prevent a kind of joy that is so priceless now?
I can't let my fear or my assumptions of the future control my life now.
"there's no time like the present"
no, there's no time BUT the present.
The only time that exists is now.
And now?
I'm very, happy.

Too many days, I've been afraid of love, love, love, love, love

I was lying on my floor today
felling the rough

hardwood
on my back and bare shoulders.
You are the celing above me.
You are the vent near my head.
I am an area rug

with eyes.
I am a lump a bump a
girl who won't jump
and it's raining cats and dogs
right outside my window
as this hump this bump
rolls to examine
a scratchy bit of the floor.
It's August, can't you come out to play?
I promise to be good,
promise to be-
bump
We could stay in the shade-
Lump
We could not saying anything at all
We could be as silent as
the shade
As the rug, as the celing.

 IT IS NEVER TOO LATE
TO BE WHAT YOU
MIGHT HAVE
BEEN
- George Elliot

When a heart breaks, it is not a sudden, defined, SNAP; a clean break into two neat pieces.

No.

It's a gradual flaking and chipping.

And some flakes get lost.

And some are never found, so that when you try to put it all  together again, and start anew, there will always

always

be a little something, off,

everytime.

Susan Minot

"I wanted a life beside him,
he handed me my coat"

"I could eat tin, I'm so
hungry and light.
Could eat these words
I write"

Simply, you make this all

simple.

So I can lay my weapons

at your feet.

Which you stare at

but do not see

for the dance they

could be.

Would I that I could

hide them under my bed.

My sarcasm, my coldness,

My realism, my sexuality

my need for

definition.

My need to always know

who what why when

more.

I am as a part of you
as your pinky nail

and as forgotten.

as easily misplaced.

you trim me

maintain me

neglect me
then cut me down again

when i get too long

and large and

in the way

Thoughts up a tree

Upside down,
I find you most
compelling

as you stroke my nose
and call me
your little one.

And we take a tumble
into the
all forgiving grass

This weekend we are in love, and I'd have it no other way.

Later is for later.

Tonight I'll let you compell me.
Tonight
maybe I'll be upside down as well,

less this becomes
tomorrow, and nothing but
silent stillshots.

So catch me.
Catch me, I'm a wild child.
Catch me, I'm wildly yours.

Why / Still / You

Why does my heart skip a beat still?
Still.
Still, after so long,
somehow you still
still
take my breathe away.

No.
That's to harsh a way to say it.

You smile.
And I smile.
And everything clinging to my mind
my heart
my soul
my weary body
slides gently away,
leaving me smaller
quieter.

If I was a Buddhist,
you'd be my transcendence.

How I can hear a song
still
still, and think of you
and those many nights
of gibberish
and sentiment
Of stolen moments, and the "ohhh" feeling, when somehow,
still,
you take me by surprise
and all my air just seems to hitch, then start again,
a little different from before.

You're a medical disaster waiting to happen.
You're the phone as it vibrates in time to the music
late at night
when my eyes are glued shut
and my heart is in my lower intestines.
You're the sunlight that pokes it way through my
dark brown curtains in the morning.
You're a shower after a long walk.
You're the song that hushes me, when little else does.
You are that moment when
one sentences
one stray thought
makes everything fall into place.

You're the reason for my grumbles and my inexplicable love poetry.

Janina Ballerina - I am not your rolling wheels, I am the highway

I'm home.

BOOKS I BOUGHT ON MY TRAVELS:
Animal Farm - George Orwell
Lady Oracle - Margaret Atwood (novel)
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie - Alan Bradley
The Gargoyle - Andrew Davidson

May 10th

I'm high above the world, or part of it at least.
Below, someone has mowed
HARPER
in large clumsy capitals in a field.

I imagine telling you about it.

I drink my third cup of coffee.
It's eight am. I've been up since 330am

My eyes are sandy, and "Blaziflor Et Helena" switches to "Gives You Hell."

She loves this song.

And I'm flying towards her.
Though, I won't see her.
The idea, the nearness is a comfort though.
And him?

"& truth be told, I miss you. & truth be told, I'm lying"

"Better luck tomorrow."
I whisper
as I shoo his ghost away.

May 11th

"looks like we're heading for a crash landing, like songs that say goodbye"

This place reflects me.
And today,
it's less lonely than I thought it would be.

At Night I was no less
[no more]
fitfull than usual.
But I didn't reach out for you, or your voice.
I reached within.
And I would drift off again,
knowing better than to reach out again for you.

I awoke as if hungover,
with a blistering bursting headache,
and my tongue felt furry.

Damn jetlag.

I showered.
I threw up.
I slept again.
I woke up
and you were barely there.

I saw you once today,
while in a book shop.
While in peace
but right now, perched on a quilt, in socks too big,
the sun finally appearing,
I'm good thanks.
You've been so quick to leave my system:
Are you just weak?
or am I stronger this time 'round?

*

Near the ocean
but not quite there yet.
24+hours here.
Why do I feel such trepidation?
It's water.
It doesn't know me.
Cannot judge me.
I think.
God, it's green here.
This place is so small town.
I feel the people my age looking at me.
What an oddity I must be.
They don't know me either.
I'm small town too.
I think.
I guess here
I'm a big city girl
impressed with the "novelties"
that make up their everyday.
I don't belong here with the locals.
I should be with the tourists.
I don't belong here
[not alone]

*

No one's love comes close to yours
Nothings what it was before.
My eyes are heavy
and my heart is sore.

*

I found a coffee shop, on a lonely walk with no purpose.
It's called the "Cha C'ha Java"

It's quiet. It's fun. It reminds me of Winnipeg.
I had a coffee.
I resolved to take a book with me next time I come.





May 13th
Raining.
I've learned something --
just because you love a place,
doesn't mean you belong there.
For that matter,
just because you love someone,
doesn't mean you belong together.
Or, even,
you don't always love what you need or belong to (belong with)
Sometimes it takes time, patience.
You just need to acknowledge that feeling, that voice that says:
ahhhhhhh
Need to know what it sounds like, that this feels different, because it is different




May 14th
Sunday Morning by Maroon 5 was the first song to play when I put my iPod on random.

"Back and forth/ we sway/ like branches in a storm."

I can still smell the ocean on me.
In my hair? No.
Feet? Hands? No.
It shall remain a mystery.
[in my heart?]

*

I am not a doll.
Nor am I a lady
British
Dainty
Proper
Quiet demur ivory fine chine
I am not a painting.

I never did much like playing tea party when I was little.
Maybe on occasion.
But not often. Not really.

Now, playing debutant or,
Proper Victorian British Lady
[ i think this the most fitting analogy]
i am smothered.

I've drunk countless and endless cups of tea
[only two sugars allowed]
ankles crossed, both feet on the ground [!!!!!!!!!!!!]

If I hear once more
"how pretty she is!"
"oh she looks so much like her mother!"
"oh Anna, you must be so proud of have such a lovely granddaughter!"
I will chuck this hand painted fine china at the wall
and grind my scone into the carpet.
As it is,
I smile charmingly, demure.
Lay my spoon on the saucer the way I've been taught
[Perpendicular to my body, behind the tea cup]
I endure my grandmother, whom I love dearly
adjusting my shirt
wiping my face
always being at my elbow.

I love her and spending time with her
but this is too much too many days in a row.

And now,
there is nothing I value more then my hour or two at night,
when I go for my walks alone.
In which I am,
as best I can,
young flirtatious and above all,
free.




That's all for now, I'll post more later!
(I took 1000+ pictures. I'm still sorting though them all. But all the pictures today are mine, from this past week)

But I still have my secret weapon; This, my brave and hopeful heart.
It's been one of those weeks that just sap my energy completly.
I want nothing more than to just spend friday and the rest of the weekend in bed, sleeping or reading.


I hate fighting with you.
Even not fighting with you,
but still knowing that something is brewing;
something is just under the surface.

Goodevening,
if seeing you across the room
makes me smile this way,
then move a little closer.
Darling if you see me staring,
its the man I finally see.
I can't explain how
in the car I saw the man;
and he not knowing
how he means to me.
Fingers speaking to skin,
I cannot say how I knew then
the man was hiding.
I drink in your grave face and
cool mannerisms,
as you recklessly indanger
and enjoy.
My cheek feels yours;
if you care to know, it was warm and sweet.
Grave face and careless hands,
you look at me.
I am aware of your eyes, and how even though your mouth is grim, you are sparkling.
is that for me?
Your tongue tells me
my eyes are celery in the sunlight m'dear.
And my stomach flips.
Pity for the world wells up,
they are not in my place.

For Now, Heavens In New York

He had no poise
no drop dead looks
and yet,
this little crooked smile
played on his lips

and something about it became him.

Maybe its the lighting
Maybe its the timing.
his shirt
the way coffee jumps in my stomach.
maybe its me.

Maybe its me sitting here
with fresh eyes
and unused to clean air.

Maybe its the way the sun came out, or how he said "excuse me" so politely.
Or how the birds are out again, after so long.

Maybe its him.
And Me.

"[it's scary/it's glorious]"

you are the elephant in the room, fast asleep.
We tiptoe about you, careful, ever careful, so not to rouse you.
So you won't awaken and crush us all
[me]
Your weight, importance, cannot be discounted.
One day you'll open one weary eye
and see me again
- awakened and infuriated, you are less large gentle bumbling elephant, more calculating, wild, preditor animal. -
and you will try to reclaim me
with bright scary eyes
large fumbling hands.
And he who tiptoes with me
shall try to slay you.
How do you slay what also exists in the mind, as real as outside?
How do you banish what will mearly
easily
return?

I feel lighter since I've met you

Take a deep breath, steady myself...

Here I go.

You said I love you,

and I contridicted you.
You corrected yourself, humbled.
You told me you're falling for me.
And some how before I could question you,

the subject was quickly changed.

I'm in a bit of a whirl and a tizzy.
Were you just being your odd,

ironic sort of funny?
Do I really want this?
Do you?

Is this finally more than it's been,

finally closer to what I may have wanted?

I'm falling too.

I'll find some answers tonight,

one way or another, mark my words.

Thinking of you late at night

Is the world too sad for you today babe?
I'll be the sunlight, I'll be the laughter and the smile

I'll be the girl on the other end of the phone line,

the girl answering your texts

with weak jokes and joy and love.
Is the world too sad for you today dearest?
I'll sing for you

I'll tell you what you need to hear

I'll listen with baited breath.

Sometimes I wish you would wake up and think of me for a change,

but I know I'm always on your mind soon enough.
Sometimes I wish you would take me away,
because I can't imagine any other place.

Are you feeling all alone?
Is the world too cold to face today?
That's okay.
I've been there too.
We'll stay inside today.
I'll make you tea,

you read aloud,

we'll fight off the grey together love,

keep our toes warm under covers.

Sometimes I wish I was all you saw,

like you when you call me as you're driving home.
Sometimes I wish I belonged to you,

and you'd never let me go too far away.
Because you'd know how much I mean to you,

because you'd know how much you mean to me.
Because we'd know that this might be

The-Be-All-And-End-All.
The,

Hold-Your-Breath-Because-I-Don't-Want-To-Miss-A-Sound.

Since when do I write love poetry?
Since when do I smile like this

at the thought of you

calling me to say
"Goodmorning May! I missed you while we slept."
And why do I think of you

at the oddest times of day?
And why do I grin like that when you text me lines of

"Mayflower, I don't ever want to lose you"

Sometimes I wish it was just that easy.
That we should be, so will be.
Sometimes I wish you could stay here,

or at least I could go with you.