a broken-hearted carpenter. a lost child. an enigmatic dreamer. they’d grabbed on and she’d fought to keep them from crashing off the ledge. they were her savings. pieces of heartache, abandoned dreams, buried memories. at the end of day, she was a pauper.
it had been a love hate affair.
she loved the way he had softened over time, moulded himself to her curves. the way his rough edges now gently held her together on days when her insides threatened drown out the world. how he knew and touched parts no one else ever had. and how he now fit only her.
she hated that her growth slowly tore him…[Read more]
i am slowly learning
that conviction is not always a bold sergeant, purposefully marching forward, methodically taking down whatever is in his path.
sometimes it the surprising humming rising out of the rubble, the gentle lifting of weight on shoulders, and Your still, small voice, whispering, “well done”.
“but i’ve been so flexible” you said.
and i couldn’t deny it.
you’d wound yourself around me, closely following my every whim, continuously changed shapes in an attempt to seep into the crevices of my being.
yes. you had been flexible.
perhaps the cage you’d put me in me was less conventional than a standard metallic one, but it was a…[Read more]
you’d always complimented my math notes
and my clear, unbroken lines
always earned your praise.
so it shouldn’t have surprised either of us
when i brought sharpened graphite to paper
and firmly etched a clear radius around my heart.
i was only trying to protect myself
after all, we’d marvelled together
at the unyielding nature of a…[Read more]
the old crosswalk was ever fickle.
somedays, it chirped
others its blinking light stuttered.
the old crosswalk was ignored.
it barely commanded the respect of the passing traffic.
to cross was to attempt walking on water
the old crosswalk was barely a crossing
but i always crossed
it was the only way to reach
sometimes i wish the journey you mapped out for me was on level ground. especially when my calves ache from incline, and the oxygen starts to thin. or when jagged tree branches send me careening to the rugged earth.
could you not have stuck to rolling drumlins? it would have been easier to see the path, to see you.
yet i continue to walk,…[Read more]
he wondered how they ever did it.
he couldn’t stop himself from
seeing untold stories in the patterns of the scuff marks on the subway floor
or hearing symphonies of longing in every rainfall.
and every word he inhaled was elixir
did the rest of the world just close their eyes to it all?
you skim across
your feathery touch
etching impressions, connections
on the crystalline surface of your canvas
others marvel at your masterpiece
and you are a master
as you skim over
your silent judgement
leaving lacerations, punishment for “forgiven” altercations
crushing what you would…[Read more]
thin, rough fabric
knocks my knees together
as metallic links
bite my palms.
the intensity increases
the higher I go.
the wooden crossing
from which we fought giants
and conquered trolls
under my weight.
and i am afraid.
and the empires!
oh those kingdoms
which were so easy to
now wedge…[Read more]
you seared my throat
as i lost my senses
floating in your haze.
then you entrenched
your thorns into me
as i leaned in
captured by your scent & gaze.
what did it matter when
i was simply a way to pass the days.
if only it hadn’t mattered to me
under alley streets
trampled under harried feet
a last minute request
incited a hopeful beat
followed by an unspoken inquiry
you were supposed to meet
a test, a measure,
was is so wrong
to safeguard the treasure?
such an impossible feat?