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Literature
Catapedamania
—i know they don’t want me to jump—
I have forever harbored inside me a fascination with edges.
My first memories are of standing on a cliff, wanting oh so badly for it to crumble under my feet. I saw a line separating earth and sky, and an urge rose in my chest to blur it.
This feeling of always being on the very tip of reality, wishing I could lose my balance and plummet, only intensified as I grew older. I found such sweetness in thoughts of stepping over sidewalk cracks to plunge into a world with nowhere left to stand on.
At the same time I was afraid normal boys didn’t think of falling as I did, didn’t wan
Literature
The Thing About Cliches
I.
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. We’ll throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
II.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keys
Literature
compulsive liar.
once i asked you your favourite
colour, and you said, "the brown
of your eyes," so i put in one green
contact and told everyone that i
came out of the womb as a factory
defect, half-priced, damaged goods.
-
sometimes i am from canada and
sometimes i am from england and
sometimes i am from spain.
i've carefully tempered my accents
and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.
"why do you lie to everyone?" you
ask.
"why not?" i reply.
-
i wear nametags that read "alicia"
and "liana" and "samantha," because
i want to know how it feels to be
someon
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I caught myself saying this alone today as an agnostic being, so I figured I should confess that I almost prayed.
Not that I don't pray other times, just that I've never ever interrupted myself like this.
And that's how I got to the conclusion that this piece carried enough suffering to share with the DA community.
Not that I don't pray other times, just that I've never ever interrupted myself like this.
And that's how I got to the conclusion that this piece carried enough suffering to share with the DA community.
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Praying doesn't make you not an agnostic. "god" can be pretty much any god, not necesarrily the christian