should be plotting story lines and times

instead i’m sitting here thinking about how fucking good you’d look in a grey hoodie and jean jacket

share my canadian ways and our cool demeanours – cool until it’s too late, you’re frozen

in time

here with me

(you’re the only one who i didn’t need to be your only one just apart of your world was enough – just having some of you was enough)

they love me because I check in

i ask how it’s going – i ask how it’s been

(most haven’t felt genuine concern in a while) 

now i’m thinking… how much apathy

do I have in me

put out selflessly

until they finally leave

(oh the tragedy)

 ———

consideration – not control

i find myself thinking – no, he wouldn’t like that

or find myself getting things you’d like

because i still consider you

not because you control me

i write more than i  think

and give myself less credit than i deserve

i am to please – like my mother

& her mother too

the last thing i said to my grandma

was see you

soon

could be us if you didn’t hate me !!!!  

i think my body looks sort of fucked up  

you started to change me  

then left me with everything dug up 

if i can’t have you then no one ever truly will  

i’m like a siren  

leading them in with my loud hypnotizing bell  

but once they’re close for too long is too much  

too much  

“you’re too much”  

but you’ll always hear the echo of my charms bellow and i’m not sorry for that at all  

everything i do and breathe is in haste  

in another universe i receive the love i give  

you remind me how love is so close to hate

and i said

                                 ”you’ve got my walls down again”

and you said

“i never did” 

i beg to differ

i shake my head

something we will never agree on

                                                 but some things, we do

(like denying the entire idea 

that we’re doing something wrong) 

“””Growing coffee plants indoors inside IS possible but please, don’t expect a large harvest of beans – a single cup of coffee may be possible after months of growth”””

(two years of silence 

  a single cup may be possible) 

and no baby, you win

because i have to go to bed sober and you get to drink our pain away

the water is the only one who holds me as i desire

i want to be consumed

i want to drown

i like to blame you and say you’re the reason i no longer trust

but deep down i know that is not the truth

the truth is that deeply embedded beneath my weak veins you’ll find a similar flow of pettiness fuelled by grudges I refuse to ever release

but for now, i’ll continue to blame you, thanks