Winter Song

Do you have memories that are oft forgotten, but a certain smell, or sound can trigger the memory to play so vividly you feel every single thing you felt that night.

Winter, brings the pain and the heartbreak for me. The snow crunching beneath my feet. I was eighteen, I was wild and beautiful and I was walking home at four in the morning with a man almost twice my age and two hundred dollars worth of cocaine in my pocket.

I was so happy. The air hurt my face, and Carl and I spilt his last cigarette. The night was blurred but I remember being in his bed. I remember him telling me he cared. I remember the lyrics he wrote about me. And that he couldn’t sleep with me.

He said he wanted to and that I was beautiful. But I think he just wanted to take care of me.


The Night The Sea Swallowed Me

I hurt so deeply 
And you were afraid of drowning 

I can’t blame you for this

I’ve been floating in it since I was 12

The hurt feels like home now

But fuck

You can’t run every time the water hits the shore 

All I needed was a lifeguard 

And you disappeared 

Mirror: Part Five

The day went by. Different than before, I went outside today. I walked to a coffeeshop and brought along the book and I watched life happen around me. It was beautiful. Things were different today, I looked up in the mirror about the coffeehouse sofa, my face done up, my hair brushed, and a dress covering the frightful sight of an unloved body. I called my mother today, she said she’s come by to see me multiple times, I don’t recall, but I don’t tell her than. I come home while my boyfriend is at a meeting. I think of all the good things that have filled my day. I think of all the hurt that filled the past months.

I don’t remember smashing the mirror. But I do remember the feeling of the glass against the soft flesh of my wrist.

Mirror: Part Three

He finished making the coffee, and handed me a cup. He told me about his work and his schooling and his family and mine. How could I have missed out on so much life? He told me he was just glad to see me out of bed again, and I recalled a time where we would go out for breakfast and laugh and feel and everything felt right. But things were different then, of course I miss it too, of course if I had a say in how my mind worked, I would tell it to stop feeling sorry for itself but that doesn’t seem to work. He placed his mug beside me and used both of his hands to cup my face. I looked into his eyes and just prayed he saw something more than I did when I was looking into the mirror earlier.

“You are so beautiful.” He said as he pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back deeply, but not too deeply. The last time he commented on how passionately I kissed him, it was because I was going to kill myself later that evening. It would be rude to remind him of that today.

Mirror: Part One

I stared blankly at the mirror across from my bed. My face pale, my expression flat. My hair fell loosely to the sides of my colourless cheeks. I brought a hand to my lips, slowly they were chapped, and I recalled a time when I would go out and paint them a bold red. Now a faint pink sits upon them like they want so desperately to be loved again but they are lacking the strength. I can see my ribs beneath my skin, pressing, screaming to be let out of the home that is destroying itself. I lean over the side of my bed and pick up my boyfriends t-shirt and let it cover the sight of flesh and bone, it was making me ill. It’s also the only piece of clothing in my room that doesn’t reek of tobacco. He never approved of the habit, but it kept me sane for a little while. I looked down at my legs, red lines across thighs from a night when I prayed, if I could only kill the worst of me, I could be better. I lean over the bed again and grab my cigarette carton. I haven’t left the house in about a week, I think. I’m not sure. I haven’t been keeping track of the days, or how many cigarettes I smoke a day, but someone must be replacing packs when I’m sleeping, I sleep a lot these days.


In my bed I hear her.

She calls my name so sweetly.

She performs shows with rubies and pearls.

But the rubies you see, have taken the colour from my bleeding veins.

The pearls, my milk teeth.

Innocence lost.

But the show is so captivating.

My blood looks better outside my body.

I beg to stay, but she sends me out of sleep.

I wake up to my disappointing reality.

I sat in the tub and drew a line down my wrist.

And the rubies fall down the pearl of the tub.

“Welcome home.” She says

Lost Balloon

Two years ago I took Aline to the fair. She was 17, I was 21. We are both quiet people so for you to find us at a place like this was peculiar. She ate a lot of candy that resembled the colour of clouds, and I played a lot of games that I wasn’t very good at. We bought two balloons before leaving, as we stepped out of the park she stoped to light a cigarette. While doing so she lost grip of the balloon and pouted as she watched it float away. We kissed for the first time.  Now whenever we see a balloon in the sky we are reminded of that day.

It was close to midnight when I got a call from Aline the unpleasantly cold January night.

“Hey, Dane. I’m really sorry, did I wake you?”

“Aline, I have class in the morning.”

“I really don’t feel well, and my family is out of town and I really just don’t want to be alone right now, Can you just stay on the phone a little while longer?”

” I’m just getting dressed now, I’ll leave a note for my parents. I’ll see you soon.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It will bother me if you’re all the way over there feeling like crap and I’m here sleeping. I’ll worry, that would bother me.”

“Okay, doors open. I’ll be in my room. See you soon.”

Fifteen minutes later and I’m at Alines door. I Knocked quickly before walking in. I hate that she leaves the door open. This neighbourhood really isn’t the best and I’m always afraid she’s not taking care of herself. We talk very little about the scars left on her wrist or the attempt to end her life when she was still in high school. I don’t ask about her therapy appointments she goes to every week or if she’s taken the pills she needs. I just hope that all is going well and I stick around when I feel like she needs me. Which is exactly what I’m doing now. I walked to the kitchen before making my way to her room because I know her well enough that if she’s in a crappy state she hasn’t eaten. I grabbed a granola bar and started a pot of coffee. I waited for the coffee to be done before making my way up to her room, mug and food in hand. I found her in her room curled up in her bed.

“I brought coffee.” She turned and sat up, I kissed her on the forehead and handed her the mug.

“Thank you.” she muttered between sips.

“Whats wrong?”

“I feel so tired, but not the sleepy tired, and I don’t know how to fix it anymore.” I held her close and just let her be. We didn’t talk much. She just needed to be around someone. But I was tired, and I quickly drifted off. Around three in the morning I woke up lonely in her bed. I sat up and I found a post it note on her pillow.

“Couldn’t sleep, went to take a bath.”

I stood up and walked down the hall to her washroom in a haze. I knocked on the door a few times with no answer. I pressed my ear to the door and could hear her favourite album playing softly.

“Aline, is everything okay? Can I come in?” again no answer.

I started pressing on the door, I know there was only a flimsy lock on the other side so growing tired and concern I hit it as hard as I could with my shoulder. The door flew open and hit the wall with a loud thud. I looked to the tub and saw Aline in a pool of red water. Her brown hair tied up, still wearing the white night gown she had on when I had arrived. I ran over to her trying to pick up her limp frame and slapping her gently across the cheek.

“Aline, hun please wake up come on. Aline, please.” I pulled my phone from my back pocket and called 911.


She left letters for her family and close friends. The only one she left for me was a brief apology where she stated she was sorry I had to be the one to find her but she knew that was the night she needed to go through with it and she couldn’t bear the idea of her mother or sister finding her in the morning and that was why she was so relieved that I was able to come over. The has never been a day that I don’t think of her, or wonder if I could have done something to stop her. But let me tell you that every time I see a balloon floating across the sky I get a sick feeling in my stomach like she’s there with me watching it float way out of reach. She resembled them in that way I guess. So distant, lost. I just hope things are comfortable where she is now.


“Hold me”

I beg in my thoughts

I can’t bare the distance.


Though We’re only inches apart

Your lack of communication

Makes it feel so much further.


“Touch me”

This time its my body pleading

Not my mind.


I move towards you ever so slowly

My knees gently tapping at yours.


“Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me”

The echo in my mind won’t shut up


It won’t stop

I don’t know how to make it stop

But you must have heard it.


Because you turn at last

Your hand finds it’s way to mine

And traces designs I didn’t bother to decipher.


I held your hand in place,

When the voice in my mind finally stopped

Yours must have started screaming.


Your other hand found its way to my knee

The one you knew would make me squirm

I quiver beneath your touch

Your hand continues to explore.


My thighs

My hips

My stomach

You linger along the gentle curve of my breast.


The voice in my head noticed before I did

She was talking again

Speaking of sins only those in love should commit

But she didn’t care in the moment

Neither did I.


I stopped wanting him to kiss me

Because I decided to lean in and kiss him myself.


He brought one of my legs around

It swung so I was sitting perfectly atop his hips.


I learned that his voice did not reside in his mind

But beneath the fabric of his jeans

That separate him and me.


Oh how I wanted him

In whatever way I could have him

I simply needed to be closer.


My lips took home on his neck

I was never one to believe in love

But I assume people believe it in because of moments like these.


Our bodies yarn for one another

We press against each other

In ways I didn’t know one could move.


It was cold in the room

But my body felt so warm

And full of feelings for a boy I hardly knew.


A button from my favourite dress

Was lost in the heat of the evening.


Things perhaps did not go as

Smoothly as they could have

But I never would have changed a thing.


Because the plans I had for

This evening initially

Never could have compared to the way

It felt to sleep in your arms.