Without you, I'd feel empty and alone
but with you, is it any different?

I just want to hold your hand, and drink fruity things while we sit on the sofa watching television. Snuggle into you as I go to sleep at night. Make you breakfast in bed and cupcakes on your birthday, and the days when I feel like it in between. Wake up to your face on my pillow, eyes scrunched shut against the morning sun. Hear you moan your protest at going outside, or shopping, or to visit my parents. I want to dress up to go out and never leave the house because we end up back in bed. Can't help but kiss you every time I see your face, and hold your hand up to my heart.

No!

There's a sinking in my stomach
like a stone
dropped in a well.

Tears overflow my eyes
like waterfalls
I cannot dam up
fast enough.

My heart shatters,
like a glass pane
had a rock thrown through it
by a teenager on the street.

Knots in my chest twist together
like discarded jewellery
in a box on the dresser.

And still I do not know
the source of my aching,
this pain deep within my being
that no matter what I do
returns to haunt me
in shadows.

Always lurking --
awaiting its chance to strike me down.

But I will not fall victim to
blameless thoughts
that live in my dreams
and hide under my blankets.

No!

This poem was pieces in my head that I tried to put together but I don't know how I like it

Teenage Love

is something you shouldn't experience in your twenties.

You should know better than that.

Funny, isn't it? How all of the sudden you're too old?

when your whole life you've been told you're too young.

too young for alcohol

too young for drugs

too young for sex

and gambling, and curses. 

Even when you're old enough you're told

you shouldn't.

it isn't worth it.

on and on and on. 

But who are they to step into your life and tell you

what you can experience?

and when.

and how.

Who are they?

Those who tell you how to act with your body

react with it

feel

the motions and the movements.

What do they know about your experience?

how you feel inside your bones when you 

see.

a bright flower

hear.

the ocean

tremble. 

as you explore a lovers' body

I say no.

No!

no to your bullshit about happiness.

what's mine isn't yours to take.

I've got sunshine,

desire,

commitment.

And I'm not about to let it go.

I'm not too young for anything.

My body isn't yours to control. 

I will wake it,

shake it,

let it see and hear and tremble all it wants.

I will experience my body.

Frozen

Shaking.

Quiet breathing.

Tiptoe.

Lock the bathroom door.

Sit.

Breathe.

"You okay?"

fuck

"Yeah, I need to pee."

"I heard you lock the door."

Freeze.

no. nonononono.

"Are you sure everything's okay?"

Frozen.

just go away. please. just. go.

"You're not hurting yourself, are you?"

ugh, no.

Breath.

"No, I just need a minute, okay?"

Breath held.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Okay? I'm really sorry. I'm stupid, all I do is hurt you."

no, you aren't sorry. you know what you need to say but you aren't sorry. 

oh god, how did i get myself here? what's wrong with me? no. nothing. stop that.

"It's okay. I'm sorry for upsetting you, it's all my fault."

"No, it's my fault."

i don't think you believe that. another trick. playing cards.

"I'm sorry."

Flushed toilet.

Hand-washing.

Wringing.

Water hot enough to burn -- anything to feel.

Unlock and shuffle.

Face to face in darkness.

"You don't get it, he fucking. Hates. ME. HATES. ME. He'll do anything to hurt me, to ruin my life. Do you not understand?"

Shrink away.

i'm shaking, don't you notice? do you care that you intimidate me, make me want to die -- not exist -- disappear? Breath in. Out. Eyes clenched to close in tears. Or is it out? i don't want to do this arguing thing. don't know how to make it better.

"I'm sorry. I messed up. It was all me. I love you, X."

"That's the thing. I still fucking love you, but all you do is hurt me. I'm sure you don't fucking care about me. Not one bit. You never have... No one ever does."

ugh, do you ever listen?

"That isn't true! I care about you. Other people care. You--"

"All people ever try to do is hurt me! It's fucking happened before, it will happen again. People are out to get me and everyone else any way they can--"

i just want this to stop. how do i stop it? how do i make it stop? i'm so tired...

5a.m. Thoughts

At five A.M. I think some thoughts:
why am I awake?
should I go back to sleep?
oh! an itch!

That's better.

Five A.M., before even sunrise, I consider.
Life-important questions:
who am I?
why are we here?
are humans really all that smart?

We're killing our planet.

Think to myself at five A.M.
what's the name of that song again?
who even sings it?
why do we care so much about celebrities?

Roll over.

Five A.M.'s gone but still I am thinking:
why five A.M. every day?
what made me wake up this time?
is there a ghost in here?

Hello, ghost.

Self Challenge: A Semi-fictional Biography of my friend Kristine

Kristine is a human who identifies as a female. She prefers the feminine pronoun. Kristine was born in Canada to parents [insert names here] originating in the Philippines on a stormy September twenty-some years ago. An intelligent, bubbly, and well-read individual, Kristine is currently studying English at UofT and working part-time, all while managing to write majestically. Beautiful in both body and brains, Kristine's writing career is taking off -- she's scarcely caught without a pen in hand -- you'll be swept away to the whirlwind worlds that inhabit her fascinating consciousness.