another suicide note

i know you don’t want to read
this dusty, scribbled note
on a scrap of paper,
and pushed between the pages
of a notebook filled with similar scrawls
that don’t make sense to you.

i know you don’t want to feel
the prickling of tears,
as you read a snapshot
of words.
a window into the rhythm of my heart ,
the pulse of my mind

but please read it.
it may hold
the reasons why i cried,
the reasons i had such
downcast eyes ,
or at the very least
a reason.

the weight of living
sometimes pulls me
into the deeper waters
of what it means to be human.
the ugliness and quick joy,
the scars that never quite fade.

and if you read my words,
remember my quick smile,
my bright angry eyes,
and the way i whispered
into the crook of your neck
in the darkness.

remember my loud laughter
and the way i always
chewed the end of my braid.
and how i loved to sing
off key nonsense
just to make you smile.

remember how fiercely i loved,
how desperately i cried
when i couldn’t save a baby bird
exiled from its nest.

remember the laughter
and the tears.
through all the years
that our lives walked
the same path.

my messy, dreamy days.
and the way i said your name.



There was a love here once
or at least, something like it.
Pushed into the shape
of those three words,
moulded into an emotion
that spoke of something
more than cold fondness.
Love should not bleed
white, when sliced open.
My passion always burned
too fiercely, too hot and bright
for your pale grey perfection.
Your distant, gentlemanly affection
made no place for my need.
Now that love is truly here,
and sliced, that love
bleeds bright red
with fire and passion
and fills me
to completion.



i long to see you, my darling.
i long to see you
in the million tiny ways
that we touch and shape and live,
and in all the tangible reminders
our existence fills this world with.
i want to see you
a swirl of toast crumbs
washing down into the sink
after breakfast.
i want to see you
the drip of coffee
your beloved mouth leaves
on the lip of your favourite mug.
i want to see you
tiny snips of dark hair
stark against white porcelain
an unruly beard trimmed down.
i want to see you
the rumpled bedsheets
still warm and smelling of you
where your body cradled mine.
i want to see you
a tangle of sleeves and socks
pulled from the laundry basket
to dry in sun and wind.
i want to see you
the smudge of gardening soil
dark against the clear cool glass
filled to quench your summer thirst.
i want to see you
whirls and loops of your flowing words
pressed into pages and poems
and ink stained smudge on your thumb.
i want to see you
in all the profound minuscule miracles
in all the deep and real ways
that living spins out of us.



Your deep, dark eyes set me on fire
And spark in me a fierce desire.
Your smile sends shivers down my spine
And plants a seed of sin divine.
Your body gives me thoughts of scarlet
And fantasies to befit a harlot.
Your words seduce me, make me sigh
And shoot me up with a natural high.
You’re smart, you’re funny, can’t get enough.
Oh Honey, you’re the perfect drug!