Yearly Archives: 2015

I know you’ve taken to wearing around your father’s hand-me-down anger. But I wish that you wouldn’t.  It’s a few  sizes too big and everyone can see it doesn’t fit you, makes you look silly, hangs loose at all the wrong places, even if it does match your skin colour. I know you think you’ll grow into it, that your arms will beef up after all the fighting and it will sit on your shoulders if you pin it on … Read More

You would hate this song. There’s not enough guitar and the words go on too long. You would say I don’t do words, I don’t do colours, I just do naps. I just know numbers. The picture I gave you didn’t make it on your wall, and did you your roommates ever tell you just how many times I’ve called? I learned things don’t happen and then disappear. Once they happen, they still are here. And you can move on … Read More

They told me that I was meant for the cleaner life, that you would drag me through the mud. They said that you would tread all over me, that they could see right through you, that you were full of hot air, that I would always be chasing, always watching you disappear after sleeker models, that it would be a vicious cycle. But I know better. I know about your rough edges and I have seen your perfect curves, and … Read More

My grandmother’s awakened bed A language I don’t understand runs circles round her head Her words get jumbled on her lips and brought her out to play I press my head against her chest her heartbeat seems to say: Still here, still here You can miss me when I’m gone But I’ll keep on holding on as long as I’m still here I’ve seen the fire I’ve seen the storm I took a stranger by the hand and tried to … Read More

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else. –Richard Siken If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at You can let them look at you But do not mistakes eyes for hands Or windows, or mirrors Let them see what a woman looks like They may not have ever seen one before If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch You can let them touch you Sometimes it … Read More

Without question, you are the worst thing that ever happened to my poetry. And I’m serious, I’ve herd about writer’s block but this- is ridiculous. My poetic fluidity has dried up faster than a woman hitting menopause to the point where this dry spells got me praying for some inspirational discharge to leak from the folds of grey matter in my brain and…shit! See what I mean? I’ve been thinking for far too long with my heart instead of my … Read More