You took me by the shoulders, shaking me, hoping I would transform into the woman I could never be, your eyes pure disbelief, your voice pure anger. Then you left.

I sat huddled in a corner of your room. Knees tucked below my chin. Scared, shaking, like an animal, defenceless before its predator's wet jaws.

My words floated briefly on the screen your before blank eyes.

And now, I'm nothing.

Please Please Please

And all I want to do is love the shit out of you
And you won't let me
But I don't care

I want to free you from all your inhibitions
So you can love me too
Like I know you do.

Story of the Sky

The blind eye
Atop the night sky
Watches darkness.

The glorious sun
Burned away
It's only pupil
Long ago.

Gazing lovingly
It fell dazedly
Into her warm embrace.

Now the blind eye
Will forever run
In fear of being scorched.

Independence.

What a long word.
Dependent on the vowels,
The prefix,
The language,
The reader.

My independence depends
On you.

My independence
Depends.

My crutch
Allows me to stand
Tall and firm
Dependently independent
Of you.

A Very Large Book

Footprints on the floor trace paths where
Our lips met and our hands touched
And your voice gently whispered in my ear.

Where our white knuckles and our clenched teeth
Made castles on islands with large moats and watch dogs.

Where a thousand tears soaked into the fabrics
That sheltered and consoled when
Our arms were unable to provide warmth.

Footprints on the floor indications of
Where we loved and fought and laughed and fell and struggled and, and, and….

A History of Us By Various Things

Over-sized sweater. He has an abundance of these, keeping them scattered among his things on the floor of his bedroom. Their appearance being their downfall, comfort and warmth their redeeming qualities. If he is not wearing one of his baggy sweatshirts than you are sure to find him wrapped in some other large, cozy thing, such as a blanket. His skin, and demeanour, always warm to the touch as a result.

Towels. Despite the apparent disorder in which he keeps everything, he is very particular about the place in which the towels are kept.

Glasses. An ability to hold onto objects which are clearly in need of repair or disposal is eminent in the case of his glasses. The wire frame was bent years ago in one of our first few passionate encounters and still, i never fail to find him leaning back in the recline of his leather lazy boy with a video game controller in his hands, staring down his nose through the lenses, like an old librarian, at the animated soldiers on screen.

Condoms. A constant reserve in his backpack. The micro-thin barrier that protected and separated us from each other. Me from his heavy load, him from the flooding wetness. Always discarded and replenished in the same fashion.

Model Cars. The thin lining of dust can attest to the rare usage of these toys. Yet they maintain their place on the majority of the few shelves in his room. When I first knew him, I found them lined up like a makeshift showroom. Now they sit atop one another in collision.

Ketchup. His ability to smother new flavours with sweet tomato always astounded and disgusted me. His strong dislike for tomatoes themselves was even more unfathomable.

Eyes. I never questioned these. Pure white shrouded only by deep pools of blue and green sincerity.

Busses. Our destinations within Toronto and beyond, almost always journeyed by one bus or another. His eyes always bright at the start, full of anticipation. An hour later shielded by drooping eyelids.

Weed. Forced complacence in times of stress. His desire for familiarity and comfort exceeding my need for progress and change.

Dishes. Regardless of how many dishes I had in the sink I could always locate his within seconds. Discarded haphazardly among the pile with distinct red stains. Cutlery abandoned atop, remnants of the meal he most recently enjoyed stuck to the prongs of his fork.

The High and Mighty

I don't want to be there when you're old and dying
Looking back on your kingdom - only 10 feet high,
Crying because you only affected the lives
Of those living within your boundaries.

You only saved the little girl
From a runaway car, the dog from life in a cage.
Changed an outlook
With ink markings.
Fought and killed a bear.

And still I won't want to be there,
Drowning in a pool of your tears,
My finger blocking the hole in your boat,
While you realize your absolute fear.