Bedroom Counselling.

There have been several of them.
They are not all alike.
Of course they are similar,
They all house the same thing.



Me.

Tears.

Pain.

anger, frustration, loneliness, depression, insanity,
happiness.

Fear, hopelessness, surrender. Elation.

7 out of 10 things are not happy.



What does this tell? Can you understand?

The place is familiar, loving. self-loving. private. Locked. It should stay locked


Filled with tears and pain. Filled with hopes and dreams.


It smells like me. It smells like my perfume; my candles.

It is cold.

That is from my open window,
It’s so drab that it’s depressing,
So old that you want to knock the walls down,
So small that I feel suffocated.
So crammed that I feel like my life is filled with worthlessness



So, Why Do You Think I Cry?



Like a drug, it consumes me. i am swallowed into it.
Others Try to Save me from It.


i don’t want to be Saved.


It is saving me.

From Them.

It is the only thing that listens. That supports.

A bed soft enough to be surrogate. Walls hard enough to be pounded. Shadows dark enough to empathize. Looks sad enough to mirror my Soul.

It represents me.
i need Love, i need to be violent, i need someone to be in my shoes.
For one. God. Damn. Minute
i need to hide.

And through it all, it is silent, strong and unmoving. But it listens. Without giving anything, it makes me understand what is wrong.

If only it could give the courage to do something about it.

mmm.

if only.

(This was a poem written during my writers craft class when we had to come up with something for the school's literary magazine, and this was all I could come up with. )

E(xceptionally) A(mazingly) S(illy) Y(ou've got to be kidding me) Service Happy Fun Times Rhyme!

Welcome to Staples!
We sell desks of Maple
hard drives cheaper to buy
than from those other guys.
Pencils and pens galore,
all you could want and more!
Our service is friendly and nice;
we'll definitely get you the best price.
All your copying needs
end at our paper reams.
We'll put your carts away
and keep HST woes at bay.
Spending money's not that hard;
so let us sign you up for an Enterprise card,
just look at ink, we'll agree
how overpriced it be.
We sell stamps too,
but packs or rolls, not one or two.
know your numbers for a discount,
to avoid paying the full amount.
Yes, the debit is slow,
we know, we know, we know.
But the best part of all this be,
Yes, our plastic bags are free!

(this is what happens when I have too much spare time on my hands at work. Darn you slow Friday nights!)

Dreams are Made In Dusk

I walk towards the graveyard in the fading light.

Dusk, my favourite time of day. The worst of the day is over, but the night is still young and full of promise and opportunity. My shoes click on the paved walkways as I slowly meander past the rows of graves.

I am approaching the middle of the graveyard when I see him. Finally. I've been waiting for him for so long.

He turns and sees me. He smiles. My heart lightens.

I Missed You, I say.

I Missed You Too, Very Much. It's Been Too Long.

He kisses me on my mouth. I shiver all the way down my spine and it works it's way to my toes peeping out from underneath the white skirt of my dress.

Suddenly, I wake up.

Andrew never knew why he had this dream. He didn’t know why he had it from the perspective of the woman in it either. He didn’t even know what she looked like, he was always in her body. The fact that he was in a woman’s body creeped him out a little. He hoped she was beautiful, if she was in love with him. He knew it was him who was also the man in the dream, the man who missed this woman and who kissed her.

Slightly awkward receiving a kiss from his own face.

Andrew looked at his clock. It was 3 in the morning. Coincidentally, it was also the third time he’d had this twilight trip. He adjusted his pillow, checked his clock to make sure the alarm was still on for the morning, and then tried to fall back to sleep; dreamless this time.


Is He Ready ?

No, No He Isn’t. But I Can Wait. There’s Plenty Of Time.

Is There Really?

What, You Don’t Think So, Mathieu?

I Think He Should Get His Ass Moving.

You Know He Doesn’t Have A Conscious Choice, Mathieu. That Was A Silly Thing To Say.

Human Men Have Never Been My Favourite, Fiona.

I Know. But Let This One Be, Mathieu. He’s Not Your Concern.

Poor Little Valentine

This sickness in my stomach, this nausea in my throat, this gripping in my chest

It’s caused by you and it’s terrifying

The power you have

Over me

I don’t understand.

I need to hide my face

But I want to shine in front of you

I can’t win I can’t win I can’t win

And you didn’t even know you made me lose.

Flipping like a leaf in autumn

My mind whirls thoughts in my head

Too fast for my heart to keep up

And eyes shut tight to control

My loss of equilibrium

Made by you

How do you do it?

My face is in my hands,

My heart is in my throat,

My mind is topsy-turvy,

Imaginings out of proportion with reality

As my feet touch the clouds and my eyes look upon the dirt below

I know I’m working with rules beyond simple gravity,

And you’ve broken them without being aware

And I’m jig-sawed in pieces that need to be fit back together

But I can’t do that,

And you don’t know,

So I stay,

Scattered,

Puzzled,

And incomplete without you.

Please fix me.

My apologies Dear

This pain, it hurts.

But it’s necessary.

I’ll be okay

Don’t worry sleep tight.

Wrap yourself in golden slumber,

Full of dreams

Ones you don’t remember

But keep you smiling upon awakening.

I’ll grow up

I thought the weight was always unbearable,

Pounds upon pounds of invisible fright,

Walking with crutches on a leg that’s just fine;

Weight I’ve been measuring with a broken scale;

It’s fixed now.

This uneasiness is only due to the medicine,

Needed to calm my feverish sleep,

And this is just a side effect of the bottle

But it’s necessary.

I need it,

You need it.

Sleep tight, little angels,

This divorce is nearly over.

Mitch.

It's not the fact that this building is old that gives me a depressed feeling of nostalgia. It's that the whole town seems to be stuck in the '70's, '80's.

The signs are wearing down--the lettering decrepit. The old, tiny school doesn't encourage advancement and leaves one to harbour feeling towards its students and staff as ignorants.

Walking down the streets wearing shiny jewelery, carrying a pretty purse or nice clothing makes you feel rich and ritzy and out of place.

You wonder why people live here.

You wonder how it sustains itself.

You want to leave, but you're afraid it will crumble behind you.

Standing on a corner is a familiar house.

Half of the town is familiar, the rest is not.

It looms.

Everything that was once big is now small.

I don't want to walk alone. I'm glad to leave soon.

This is my Hometown.