Day to Day Poetry

Day to Day Poetry #37

You are the mirage in my mind,
Ingrained, solidified
Carved into the eponymous of my existence –
A character I turned into a verisimilitude,
one even Carraway can’t force into a rendezvous
inside his living room,
one sunny afternoon.

Please don’t walk away
until I know you
beyond the curve of your back
and the angry, jutted out nerves
that decorates your
worn knuckles.

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Elise's Christmas party

 

Not a piece of writing but a photo someone captured at the party I threw last night. I always say that working at the theatre is one of the best decisions in my life, and I mean it. This job literally saved my life and for the first time in years, I am so happy to be alive.

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Day to Day #36

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Day to Day Poetry

Day to Day Poetry #35

I had a dream
that I had an infinite amount
of these round little pills
that forced us to dance
the crazy dance
of laconic conversations
for six hours straight
going up and then down
and then flinging our souls
away from the helpless
hopelessness of sobriety
until a tremble in the corner

of our dilated eyes
exploded
and rendered us
into colours
that couldn’t exist

while a rabid, quivering whisper

told us we held

the secret to life

that whatever it is that people

questioned, studied, searched and journeyed for

the golden truth, the elliptical bud

has been found—

but before we could

ask why
it died

before we could hear

 

anything.
 

 

 

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Day to Day Poetry, Day to Day Writing

Day to Day Poetry #34

It crawls into my skin
like little parasites
that dig under my veins
and settles into the crevices of my chest
and pounds and pounds —
until the only thing that can stop
my sporadic bursts of breath
is the pain that electrifies my nerves
whenever I clench my fists
to dig my nails into my palms,
tiny cuts of red
that grounds me back to reality.

Because loving you was a decision
I set heavily in stone
with as much relentless and vehemence
as a naive 10-year-old would –
taking every minuscule sign as proof of your love,
justifying your hesitations and radio silence
biting back my lip to prevent my heart from breaking
sitting alone on a thirty-minute cab ride
refusing to cry.

Because you are thunder, the tiniest of all tempests
The persuasion and conviction of my soul
Within forty-two hours you owned me
And rendered me speechless in prisms of crimson and catatonic ecstasy
As you swing me back and forth in an euphoria induced coma
Until the sunlight of the early morning doesn’t scare me anymore
For we have, gathered in our hands,
The laughter that will keep us calm even in the break of sobriety
The serotonin that will keep us sane and going
And the stories that will tide us over until the next bitter year.

Yesterday, my love, you held me on Danforth avenue,
Tonight, dear stranger, I stand alone.

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