these days, it all seems to blend together like different colours of paint on a pallette, congealing into brown and grey. and the sun streams through my bedroom window, but i don’t have time to go out today. i come home tired, and i wake up worse. i scroll through my phone, and i waste my time away, then stay up ‘til midnight in a panicked daze. yeah, these days i don’t know what i’m going to do next. what my life is going to look like in a year. these days my feet ache, and my back is sore, and every success makes me wonder when i won’t be able to do this anymore. and i walk slow around the halls of my childhood home, trying to memorize every creak in the floor. ‘cause you hate it ‘til you’re already standing halfway out the door. i lie awake ‘til two and i can’t get to sleep. i hope it mattered to somebody, i hope there’s at least one person’s life i’ve improved. these days i spin around my mind,  ‘cause i’m just terrified i’ll lose you too. i go to school. i go to work. i close my eyes and let it fade. i watch each second pass in the clock on my computer, and i wonder if i’m wasting away. i get my bed all nice and made. try to smile at the little things, and look on the bright side. it’s just another one of those days.


i’ve climbed the mountain and i have done exactly what you asked

i have sung your cloying song and danced your pretty dance

taken a painkiller to boot, ‘cause my throat is sore and my eyes start to water

at the sight of pigtails and braids and a warm, soft bed

i’ve climbed the mountain and come down, gasping and sore

tired, aching, still wanting for more

‘cause there’s no value in the achievement

in the ache and the pain, the bloody teeth

the pages rolling off my cheeks

i don’t know how to fit my feelings

into boxes, i don’t know how to make them nice

and good, and neat

to follow the hand-outs and the worksheets

and make it stick this time

i don’t know how to curtsy and remember the cues

i’m trying, though, i swear to you

and is it failure i’m facing

or is this just real life? 

‘cause aching dreams seemed prettier

in the early morning light

when whatever it takes sounded like a wedding vow

and desperate fixation felt like intimacy

i’ve lied in bed all morning and stared up at the ceiling

muscles screaming

for motion and feeling, wind in my lungs and something to chase

for shoulders at rest

my thoughts running slow

it’s just a fantasy

some romanticized bullshit, a glamour

i’ll never be able to let go

but god, it’s a good one

watching me at night

when time is running slow


see her in the mirror, every now and then / or when i’m on my way to school, putting in my headphones and shutting out the world / but for a moment, i can see her brunette curls and her big sweaters / her soft, round cheeks / she sings to herself as she gloats over me / about the person i could have been, if i were braver, stronger, greater / made of iron and steel, and sheer force of will / her hair is messy, her t-shirt worn, and i don’t miss her a bit, i swear / but she doesn’t care / glaring from the car behind me at the light / she’s shouting make the fucking turn ’cause i’ve got places to be tonight / i see her at the bus stop from the corner of my eye, scrolling through her phone / she’s here and then she’s gone and then i am left alone / to fester and brood and find another hole in my favourite pair of shoes / but i’ll wear them til they’re rubber and thread / i will wake up and cry and do it all again / because i see her in the graveyard, but she’s not really dead / she’s running circles ‘round my heart / she’s wailing in my closet / writing stories in the pockets of my jeans / planting daffodil bulbs in the garden / drawing hearts on my cheeks

she never left. not really.

What is growing up if not being haunted by a thousand different versions of yourself, amirite?

gritted teeth

i can’t stand the sight of waterfalls, these days

and even that one photo of purple-blue galaxies feels overdone

and cliché, i’ve heard this song play just one

too many times in outlet malls and grocery stores

and now all the ukulele strumming makes me feel is tired

and i can’t stand it, everyone around me so giddy and excited

for what comes next, and all i can do is sit there in my room

wishing for that time machine to finally come through

i’m not good at change, i never have been

and in my head i’m thirty and i’m happy and it’s all

some rose-tinted vision, really just a cheap vintage filter

on my phone

it’s just another lie you told me

another promise that you will never keep

i don’t want to change the world anymore

i just want to go to sleep

i want to handle you with care

like you’re made of porcelain

i want to play the strings just right

’cause i don’t believe it anymore

when people say they’re sorry

or they just want to help me

‘cause i’ve heard that one before

heard it spoken ‘til the words were weary and worn in

sickly-sweet and rotten on my tongue

but god, i want to

i want to trust every person i meet

i want to hold your hand and sing for weeks

i want to make apple pies and stand outside in the sun

i want to trace back the fissure right down the break

i want to step back onto a stage, just like i used to

and sing through gritted teeth, a hopeful kind of ache

I am SO proud of this piece–I think I want to submit it somewhere 🙂


i don’t really like this song, but it’s stuck in my brain 

so i’ll listen out of pity

i’ll wash the dishes and i’ll bitch about work, and school

math assignments, my ever-aching back

i’ll sing to the refrain 

i’ll wind the player back

‘cause i miss things i’ve never even had

stockings and pinafores

polaroid photos and low rise jeans

and dial-up internet

i miss a utopia i have never seen with the lights on

i see her in my dreams, i dance around her skirt on the ballroom floor

don’t know how i ended up here

except on the wings of random luck

i miss a wasted youth i don’t know

but she looks pretty perfect in the magazines

with her 16th birthday convertibles

getting drunk at parties, adulthood on free trial

doing bad things

with no consequence

i miss people i haven’t seen since the second grade

i hope they’re doing good

i hope they don’t fall asleep on a spiderweb

swaying in the wind

old phobias creeping over their skin

i hope the sun shines through their windows

i hope they read books and dog-ear the pages

i hope they drink lemonade and they give gifts to strangers

like it doesn’t cost them anything

i don’t like this song

but i can’t stop listening, need to know

how it ends, need to build it a casket and lay it down to rest

need to sing all the falsetto highs

‘til my throat is sore

need to go through the five stages of grief

for something that can’t die

because it’s not even a person

and i’ll be out of here before you know it

i’ll look back on old memories with a pit in my stomach

feel my heart wrench

and i will miss the lies you told me

flannel-soft and kind, right to the finish

Not entirely sure what this poem means, but I like how it turned out.