4-12-2012; i

où avez-vous, mon amour?

did you sit with broken ribs, punctuating the silence with the inane, with your life underscored by nirvana and the french classes you took in secondary school left to the wayside. reach into your pocket and feel the small change, feel the scraps of paper full of odd words and strangers phone numbers. are you watching at the window, feeling the clouds drift by because nothing is enough, for you, for him or for us. 

i walked past you once, red baseball hat and piano fingers. i watched you dance to the vision in your arms and i watched you walk down the street, until you were nothing more than a string of notes wandering through another crowded street. i watched you until i was unsure that i had ever seen you. i watched you and now i don’t know why. 

i never slept when i was with you, i never slept when i could be examining you like mess below a cuticle or freckles upon an apples core. bleeding into months and years of sleeping at six awaking two hours later at eight am. i never slept when i was with you and now i am exhausted, sucking from the wind all the oxygen i can muster. is this what it is like to die? is this how it feels when your body puts up no more resistance than the unavoidable pants of exertion. we bleed and bruise, but when will it end?

where are you, my love? 


if you could be anywhere else
would you still stay;

avec moi, mon amour.

wander through the strings
of this mind, the corners
of these elbows and the
fragile courting of fear.

mon amour, mon amour.
chérie, où vas-tu?

eyes like night and the smile
rare as a shooting star,
where have you gone, love?

où avez-vous passé et
comment puis-je vous
faire rester?

(where have you gone and
how do i make you stay?)


darling, am I not who you fell in love with, with half moon eyes and tears crumbling at a cliffs edge. darling, can you not watch whilst I pull at the threads that keep this package oh, so neat. darling, darling I love you, I’m just not quite as wholesome as that delight you first met, my love, my only. I am fragile as a vintage button, holding on to sanity on a mouldy, bleeding thread. darling, hold me closer and tell me all the lies that I need. tell me darling that I am breaking all of the boundaries set aside for those with melancholia and this chronic sadness. tell me my love, that I will not break our children with this instability. tell me love that I am not contagious, tell me that I don’t make you regret the day that you stumbled across this swollen heart and bird cage chest. brittle, the hatred of myself rattles around these putrid veins as the rain pours upon porcelain cheeks.

I’m sorry that you were intrigued by skin like snow and a lion’s mane of sunshine, that blue eyes lit up like christmas drew you across our subtle horizons. I’m sorry that my insides and outsides are a paradox. darling, though, dearest darling, I love you with these moon tears and threaded sunshine. just don’t watch whilst I decay, please darling.

23-10-2012; i

whistling, the wind blew
through our eyelashes and
coloured the gaze we

bled upon the bloated sky.

howling, the lightening
cracked over our fingers like
a whipping from zeus and

basked in the masked light
of a false horizon.

screaming for mercy and
picking at the greying flecks
of skin at the corners of
our eyes and cuticles;

bring us redemption when
you come in the morning,
love. bring us redemption
when you can,


21-10-2012; i

there is no such thing as

endless quivers of eyelashes
pervaded by scenes of
broken glass and
fragile glances

halted and sweltering
under climate change.

(melting as we dance
next to the sun, dying
as we breathe in the
moons glare and breaking)

countlessly breaking and
bending until lovers
are just strangers staring
at the end of forever;

time is a man made construction.