The Flower

I was that little girl who would water dead flowers to try to bring them back to life

Who grew into a woman who would love and give too much.

Even now, I am sad when fresh flowers, vibrant and beautiful, die.

I think that was how you left me in the end. Unwatered and clinging to life. 

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Favourite Things

We were each other’s favourite thing

It was more than a lover’s fling

You held me close and stroked my hair

We were such a perfect pair

Although no labels

We were true

There could never be another you

I loved I loved 

You tried and tried

The day came for us to say goodbye

You wiped my tears away and sighed

I’ll see you soon

Just please don’t cry

I dare not say it

I just closed my eyes

I’ll love you till’ the day I die

The Goddess and the Sailor Boy

The secrets of us were tucked between my ribs

With writings of love and loss and

inklings of passion, betrayal

The story of a goddess and a sailor boy

her palm pressed against the milky moon

How she tried to keep him close with incantations

But always knew he belonged to the waves of the sea

and there was no keeping him from it

The goddess was seasick but the sailor was free.

Calm before the Storm

 I think you were always waiting for me to slow down.  I was hyper, scattered, excitable, and everything was always in colour with me but you dreamt in beige and ivory. I was an unlit firework; gasoline just waiting for that spark to ignite. The quiet pause before the chaos. I learned early on that men do not want to love hurricane women. A storm is exciting for a night but it can tear down houses and people. A storm is a force and god help you if a hurricane woman will love you because it will be fierce and it will never be easy. I never blamed you for leaving though I threw witches curses and did not let you go quietly. I saw you two years later with a calm girl. A raindrop girl, delicate and iridescent; non-threatening. She was a gentle Sunday afternoon and you had made a home there. I saw how you were comfortable now. Your eyes met mine, but you turned away from me, quickly. Was I still too bright? Beauty festers in mad women and if you touched me it would blister your skin. The fierce women with tempest thunder hearts and men like you with perfectly matched socks and American dreams. Behind your white picket fence, I hope you remember those wild sunsets you spent with me.

The Blooms

 I bought myself flowers through sadness

Or sadness through flowers, I could not tell

but with the hope that their blooms would lift lift lift me up away from the dirt the rot the human disappointment.

I often dream of those spring walks with you when I would pluck flowers from the ground, sprinkling earth from its roots, velvet petals against my nose, my cheeks,

but my nails would dig into their stems, your flesh, as I clung to you both,

And you,

Always there with a smile and a no.