well that didn't last too long.

what can i say? tumblr is lovely but i love my blog. this one feels more like my writing one, you know?


hey, i am still just a
second place prize?
the runner up gets me?
it doesn't work like that.
i am not a second choice.
babe you can't pick and choose,
that feels like all i get anymore.
i get to be your
consilation prize.
you lost her.
you got me.



i've always really identified with Clemintine
from the movie
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
she's wild.
she's horrible.
she's mean and cruel.
she was in love and he hurt her.
she loved him so much.
she was afraid, but she tried to never show it
she would do anything to get rid of him
and anything to get him back


my wonderful talented friend raezavel did a photoshoot with me yesterday! stalk her blog- they should be up soon.

TO EVERYONE WHO TAKES PHOTOS OFF OF BLOGS

make sure you always credit the original artist, yeah? or at least the blog/site you took them from. it may seem like such a little thing, but seeing as i'm sure most of the people who follow me are young artists in some form, of course you understand that plagiarism in any form is just not cool. i found one of my photos on weheartit the other day, and it was taken from someone else's who didnt credit me. how annoying!!
i love you all followers, but credit credit credit! im not nearly successful enough, nor, i suppose, are many of you, to be comfortable with your work not being credited when it's been reblogged.
yes, i know i'm guilty of it too occasionally, but i solemnly swear to change my wicked ways from this day forward. nothing like a little taste of my own medicine to cure me, huh? :)


it's a beautiful sunday morning, and i am currently working on getting my summer to do list in order! summer is coming up fast and as it's my last summer before university and irrevocable adulthood and responsibility, i do indeed plan on making it count!

i suppose i am cheating a little bit, as i'm going to be 18 this coming friday (may 21st i'm a legal Canadian adult!)
tell me, is being an adult supposed to change things? because the closer i get, the less i am convinced by this.
so i'll be able to get into clubs. i don't really dance all that well anyways.
so i'll be able to drink.                          legally.
what else is there?
i can buy cigarettes (addiction will welcome me back with open arms i bet)
but other than that,
what's the big hullabaloo about, really?
i wish i had done more things as a kid.
but i still have this one last summer. so...!

next time i will be post my summer to do list, and i hope you all will do the same!

have a beautiful day

finally

tell me,
do you recognize me?
its been so long,
and god knows
i've grown.
i see you
crossing the room
with that same old grin.

oh
youre coming nearer
oh
youre eyes are still so-

just a new women
one who must have so recently
been just a little girl
just another conquest
just another pair of eyes
lips
breasts.

and i falter
because i know if you touch me again
like you did so many- so long-
i'll shrink down
to orginal size.

after the battle,
i painted stars in our bedroom*
no prayers
no pleas
no promises.
i painted stars in the room
where we slept and wrote and moved and loved.
and with ever stroke
i breathed your name
and saw your face.
after the battle, when there was nothing left
i recreated us.
after the battle,
i awaited your return, as i promised i would.
no sobs
no screams
no songs.
i waited,
for the war we created to be won or lost.

Here Comes The Sun

And I say, it's alright.


What's going on with me? I know I haven't written in a long, long time.


I've been on a few dates with this guy, let's call him...... J.
I can't seem to wrap my head around him.
He's fun and romantic. He makes me laugh. He yells. He's serious. He has both feet on the ground. He holds doors open for me, pulls out chairs.
I like him.
You know that feeling, when you look at someone, and suddenly, you're inexplicably, completely elated?
Yeah. I get that from him.

Love? Love love love love love love love.
Love.
I don't understand that word right now.

Love does not come in a box.
There is no preconspetion.
No constrictions or confides to it.

Love isn't something you can ask for and recieve.
Love can't be given with rules.
Love can't be requested in a size five, canary yellow.

It's not that someone comes to you, with a box
and you open it;
Oh! It's exactly what I wanted!
Look, it highlights the colour of my eyes!

It's not that you can wear it a while, and then pack it up because it doesn't suit you any longer.
Pack it up, and put it back in it's box, and give it away again.
Or store it under your bed, waiting for a cold and rainy day when you need it again.

Love isn't like that.

But while I can tell you with some confidence what love is not,
I cannot tell you exactly what it is.





Though, I'm no longer fearless
I'm no longer reduced to
that shaking sniviling child you had me.
Let me see this clearly;
am I a novelty?
A wild flower that catches your eye,
you pluck and take with you,
until you reach where wild flowers grow rampent? And I am no longer special?
Or, until we reach the city,
where I seem odd and young and foolish and decidedly out of place.
My large hair, changing in your opinion only;
Wild and careless and untamed at first
now is messy and difficult.
It was always all those things.
So discet me, to my smallest parts
and try to know what you are in for.
But once you do, I'll become nothing but
my various bits and pieces.
An arm, a leg
absent minded, loud
a toenail,
sensitive.
What now?

Last post for a week

The Jar - Susan Minot (From "Poems; 4am)
I took the man out of my jar
I thought, That's no place for him to be.
That's no man to be in my jar.
I took him out
and the song went out of me.
And the tree trunks, hit by the rising sun
and the shape of his teeth
left.
It was for my own good that I took him out, you see
[After a looting, after a theft]
He was an insult to my affections.
I took him out and
his voice was gone,
and every sound changed but one-
the beating sound kept beating on

At first I was relieved.
I took him out and took out pain.
I thought, My jar will be ready for
a new set of teeth.
The slowly that drained out, too:
the relief.

So there it sat, my jar on a sill
with nothing to sing about. Quiet, still.
A jar on a blank page, a jar on a roof
with nothing inside it and nothing to prove.

So I launched it. Out to sea.
A jar set adrifting, a jar on a wave.
A jar on the ocean, far from the shore.
Miraculous. Buoyant. Able to float.
but useless and empty and floating by rote.

No sound but the little tin pecks
of the waves on the glass.
My jar bobbed further and further
out to sea
till the water grew so large
and silent around it
that it was lost to me.

Hey bright eyes.
If I could have your heart,
[as you so suggest]
I would;
but for now, I'll settle for your head on a platter.
You're my paper weight.
You make me want to write
You make me feel unnervingly safe.
And now I fear I've ruined everything.
When I act on impulse,
when my temper gets the worst of me.
When I open my mouth
or close my phone.

[Sometimes I wish I could read your mind - what an unfair advantage that would be.]
And if you fly away, never to come back again, I wonder if you'll think of me.
Will you see my face in coffee shop windows,
on the bus, in the park;
my hair my nose my arms my inkstainedfingers
will you catch glimpses?
Seeing a young women writing on a notepad,
or bending down to pick dandelions?
A curly haired lady striking a match? An I♥NY shirt?
A book of poetry, a cherry stem;
will you think of me?

Will you think of me
even half as much
as I'll think of you?

Absence leads a heart to wander.
And though I, which withstand the
change of days, stay,
you shift and break and scatter.
What shall I do my dear?
Chase and gather the fragments of you,
as I know that is what you wish.
I suppose I'm to put those pieces back together too?
I suppose too, that I shall do so without complain.
It's who I am.
And it's not who you want.

May 9th, o9

Packing light.
I want to leave everything behind me.
Can't let you slip into my suitcase somehow, can't let you follow me out
Toss a shirt in- I remember how you liked it, fingering the fabric - toss it back out.
[I've spent all my years in believin' you, but I just can't get no relief]
I can't even decide if I should put my own broken pieces in.

I lost the rhythm of this place.
It's continuing, I feel the pulse,
but I can't seem to keep up myself,
I can't find the beat.
[Should I change lotions I wonder? I recall who you would smile when you caught the scent of this one]
I look forward to seeing and being with the ocean salt, once again.
Maybe if I sleep with my window open, I won't think of you
or dream of him.

Do you even like the sea? The island? The markets, the trees, the way the sun and rain are one?
Did you even know it's a piece of me, or that the air lets me sleep easier than here?

My Travel Books:
Poems; 4am - Susan Minot
Selected Poems - Margaret Atwood
Anne of Green Gables - L.M.Montgomery
In Arabian Nights, A Caravan of Moroccan Dreams - Tahir Shah
Inkheart - Cornelia Funke

No one's love comes close to yours, nothing's what it was before. My eyes are heavy, and my heart is sore.

I went to the carnival saturday night. I went on a ride. It was round like a ferris wheel, but the cars were a cage, and as I rode in a circle, my car spun in its own little circle.
I screamed, loud.
I laughed, hard.
I rose above the ground, towards the sky.
I couldn't see the stars, but I could see the moon in the black, light polluted sky. It was a half moon, a little rounded though. 5 days 'til the full moon.
I saw the moon right side up the first time.
On my second time around, I saw it upside down.
I hurtled head first towards the ground, feet up to the sky.
The world was bright, and loud and out of order.
I was in a state of anti gravity.
When I got back on the ground, I collapsed with laughter.
Nothing like being weightless, to make you feel so grounded later on.

I don't think I realized how much I need you until suddenly
you just weren't here.
And I looked around and said to myself.
Huh. Something is missing, isn't it?

Idunno, this weekend I'm just falling apart, and falling back together so swiftly I've lost count of the rotations.
[head first, feet up; feet first, eyes searching]

I know it's stupid for me to miss him, of all people. But tell me, how do you dislodge the bullet that's keeping your blood in?
How do you dig it out?
How do you have the faith that you won't die from the pain
or the blood loss,
or even the small bits of it you accidently left behind, which then traveled into your blood streams, into your heart/brain/lungs and kill you?
[that's the one that concerns me most]

This town doesn't feel the same
without my best friend at my side.
I go to the park or make a cup of coffee.
I think of how my other half would be
climbing the treesor making fun of how much sugar I use
[i use a significantly less amount now. I'm sorry to think that you missed the transition]
I wander about and sometimes turn to tell you abouthow the red door is beautiful in the sunlight.
I reach for my phone and start to dial your number
"793-..."It's like phantom limb syndrom
like when people go to war and lose an arm,
but they think that they can still feel it;
but they can still feel it.

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.

I've been kinda down lately.
I don't know, maybe too many sad songs.
But you know when things all just feel...
too much?

Yeah.



I can't tell the difference between
black and white anymore.
It's quiet here today,
and I can hear the quiet
even if I hum to myself.
It's hard enough without feeling
like I've killed
this little part of you.
It was quite a lie
to make me think that this
was more than it was, I suppose.
My fault, or yours?
Cause I stood still,
I closed my eyes,
I let you take
all you wanted from me.
If I'm not to blame,
If I'm not the reason,
then what am I?
Heartbroken is extreme,
but battered and bruised sounds
close to me.
And nothings riding in
from the distance
to save me.
I've contridicted everything
I ever wanted.
I've left behind everything from
before
and am left
only with these
fragments
these bruises that
refuse to yellow and fade.
This hand that still aches
from that too-hard-squeeze.
Who am I,
now that I am no longer
defined by what you do?
In the night
I know I am defined by what you did.
By what I allowed.
I see you in every pair of hands.
You saw the terror in my eyes that day.
And you dare to ask me
why.
And you dare to beg me
and I dare to cry one more time,
before I fall asleep to be defined again.
I am doomed
to know that this is
unchangable,
and I am responsible,
that my anchor crushed me
and I am lost inside this quiet tonight.