you told me once dear/
that you really loved me/
you said no one else could come between/
now what did you mean?

looking forward to my new life. really. i am.
im letting go. im moving on. im accepting it.
and im happy.
time to wrap this mother up
and tie up my loose ends.
:)

you're the swimming pool/
on an august day/
and you're the perfect thing/
to say/
and you play it coy/
but it's kinda cute/
and when you smile at me/
you know exactly/
what you do/
baby don't pretend/
that you don't know it's true/
cause i can see it when i look at you.


3 days until i'm 18
6 days until i have the most important date of my life
13 days until my provincial english exam

holy, smokes.

ever notice how life never moves slowly?
it may seem like it does for about a day. or two if youre lucky.
but eventually everything just shows up.
being 18...
wow...
well i suppose i have to save this for three days from now.

Madeleine - Sarah Slean

Madeleine
Shall her story end?
With this aftermath music,
My broken French?
Heal her, if you can
Pray the lions aren’t waiting
Take her hand
I want to be brave,
I want to be brave
But the night goes up in flames
The courage we need
A fury to tame
This madness, madness, madness
No more,will I count the dead
Bending gathering words
I should have said
When the night falls
It scrapes its knees
We watch the houses on fire
And she says to me
I want to be brave, I want to be brave
But I don’t think I’ll love again
The dark is so deep
I’ve lost my way
In this madness, madness, madness
Over time, luck runs out
And fate is not your friend
Over time, good must go
And are we safe, safe yet?
Madeleine,
Can I escape again?
Out of a dragonfly jar
Am I safe yet?

-Sarah Slean

I'll try to be brave like you

A foundling

He left himself on my doorstep,
abandoned in the shabby
basket of his own ribs.

My heart wept custard:
I took him in.

Warmed in the kitchen,
he swelled, absorbing.
He will not leave.
I am afraid to move him.

What should I feed him?

He never talks. He sits
in the middle of the kitchen floor
staring at the bright scars
traced on his body, fascinated.

At first
I thought that they were notched
on him by pain
but now I see

that they are only the coloured pictures
of places he once
lived, and think
that no-one else has ever been.

Sometimes, when Steven and I are driving,

we'll sing together, this song or that one.
Often:

"
The flower said I wish I was a tree
The tree said I wish I could be
A different kinda tree.
The cat wished that it was a bee.
The turtle wished that it could fly
really high into the sky
over rooftops and then dive deep into the sea.
And in the sea there is a fish
A fish that has a secret wish
A wish to be
A big cactus
with a pink flower on it.
And the flower would be its offering
of love
To the desert,
And the desert, so dry and lonely,
that the creatures would appreciate the effort.
"

I've spent my day waiting around for him to get home from work, so we can have dinner, then go to the carnival.
(First one of the year! YES!)
Expect pictures everyone!

























Close your eyes, clear your heart.
Cut the cord.
Are we human?
Or are we dancer?
My sign is vital.
My hands are cold,
and I'm on my knees,
Looking for the answer.






I'm sure sometimes, we all have that crushing, overpowering need
to just
get the hell out.
Hop on a bus
head downtown.
Establish ourselves,
be independant,
be happy.

Are you happy?
Are you alright, dreaming of home,
in your own safe bed?
Do you close your eyes and see me
like that day?
You on the ground,
eyes to the sky,
me shaking if mirth,
on my knees to help you up?
Do you see as that,
or do you see me as my nightmares?
Taken over, small and glass.
Somedays I can't be sure
which you think I am.
Somedays I'm not sure which I actually am.
Somedays I want to sneak out my window,
because someone threw rocks at it.