Shorts & Newbies

I check the time on my phone again. 8:5 7p . They're late. This was supposed to be done before he got home from work but of course he's not going to blame them. I bounce my leg, gripping the rock I'm sitting on when I finally I see their car pull up. I keep the small talk as friendly as I can without making it seem like I'm flirting. I never have but that doesn't stop him from telling me I've done it to get an extra point. After the car pulls away I practically sprint home so I'm there before he is. Having it ready helps when he's had a bad day. I wait to portion mine because doing so will make me look too eager, too much like a fiend, even though he's been texting me every 10 minutes for the last hour asking if I've met them yet. I receive a text from my neighbour, saying she has some good stuff and asks if I want to smoke with her. I close my eyes and grip my phone before deleting the text.  As if he can sense my betrayal, the door opens and th...

You're leaving But don't fret for me I'm strong I'll make it through whatever comes next You're leaving But don't be scared for me I'm tough I'll see the sun rise tomorrow You're leaving But don't hold on for me I'm brave I'll pick myself up and dust myself off You're leaving But don't stay for me  I'm secure I'll find my way after you go Because in the end, I'll be okay.

You're 3. You're soon going to have a little brother. He's going to take up a lot of mommy's time. Don't blame him. He's a baby and he needs mommy just a little more than you do right now. You're so strong and independent, so funny and creative. You don't see it now but some day you will consider him a friend. You're 4. The fighting is going to end soon. Please remember that what happens next is not your fault. Daddy loves you even if sometimes he doesn't know how to show it. Be patient with him. He misses you just as you miss him. I know mommy can't fill that space. Don't be angry at her for that. She's doing the best she knows how. You're 6. You're so friendly and beautiful. You are lovely and do not deserve what will happen to you. You are not to blame. Tell someone you trust. You are loved. You're 9. You are smart and kind and gentle. Girls can be so cruel for no reason and you don't deserve it. There is nothing wr...

My eyes are open to darkness. I've long since learned how to make my way through isolation without the use of sight. I am confident in my movements and do not stumble or falter. A sudden, glaring light reveals an intrusion into my carefully crafted world of silence. It's talons are sharp and dig roughly into my surroundings, leaving deep, jagged scars. I look around in confusion, not recognizing what's happening to my sanctuary. I watch in horror as the intruder melds itself into everything I have spent so much time perfecting. Something foreign snakes its way into my consciousness so slowly it feels like a caress. I am not alarmed but rather curious so I welcome it openly. The whispers of promises are pretty and alluring. With my attention held I don't notice the chaos that continues around me. Selective words are sung into my ears, a lullaby, as if to a child to dream them to sleep. I close my eyes and listen, forgetting all about the destruction before my feet. Gentl...

I rock back and forth, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. Over and over. They're late. They're always late. I bite my hand to keep from crying out. It's a better alternative than screaming. They've long since stopped caring. Finally. Finally. Finally. The small sliding door opens and the tray slides into my dark prison cell, accompanied by a straw. I finish quickly as a guttural cry escapes my throat without my permission. It's not enough. Never enough. I used to beg, banging at the door until my hands bled but they don't care. They've never cared. I pace the small confines of the room, back and forth, almost insane with need. All I'm asking for is a little more. Can't they do it just one time? I banish the thought. I learned a long time ago that more is sometimes just as dangerous as not enough. I pick up a small rock and drag it along my arm. The sensation a small reprieve to the gnawing hunger inside. I feel drops of blood run down my arm and f...

This is confusing and frustrating - For my friends. Watching me make choices they know are no good but are supportive because they have to be. Hoping I'm okay and worrying about me every day. Thankful that I'm alive. For myself. I don't understand my decisions, thoughts or actions. I watch myself doing things, knowing I need to change it or stop but unable to do so because I'm not in control anymore. I feel adrift from my mind and body. I feel my emotions intensely. When you're at a steady level 4 - I am an uncontrollable, wild level 8. I get paranoid and distrustful. I let go of friendships easily. I overreact and am erratic. I make impulsive decisions and don't have healthy coping strategies. I am often misunderstood and taken the wrong way. I don't always think before I speak/act and I hurt people unintentionally. My brain is a spinning top that I am unable to slow down or stop. 

It is every colour all at once. It is expansive and claustrophobic at the same time. There are no windows. There are four bare bulbs centred on each wall, each with a different wattage that never turn off. I am plopped into this room without prior knowledge or consent. I grow accustomed, content and attached to this room. It is my home. I know the colour, I know the light, I know the shadow. Whether or not I know why I'm here, or even that I'm here at all, this room is safe. I must protect this room. People chip away at the other sides of the walls. Imperceptible at first. Sometimes so, that I don't notice the intrusion at all. I believe them safe to my room. But then they start to make changes to my home. What are you doing? That should be blue, not green. Stop it! Don't move that light, it doesn't belong there. That shouldn't be turned up so high, I can't see! They do so without asking and without permission. And then they leave. I am left n...

Hello, my love. I've missed you. What did I do? Are you mad at me? You always do this! You can't do anything right! I love you. I hate you. You fucked up. I can't do this. Hug me. We're done. I'm sorry. Why do you want to dwell? You never let anything go! You just want to punish me! I love you. You are nothing to me. I miss you. Don't you want me? I need you. I love you. I never loved you. I'm done with you. What do you want for lunch?

I am an ocean. I run deep. Creatures creep and slither around. I am expansive. There are many places in myself I don't know or wouldn't recognize. My water is calm at the surface but many things happen underneath. My bottom is dark and cold. Some places are impenetrable. I cannot go there. To go is to let go of sanity and reason. They do not belong there - are not welcome. The beat of my ocean is erratic. The edges are sharp. The pressure is immense. It comes from all sides. Struggling only pulls it closer. Boats come to rescue me but they grow tired of waiting at an empty dock. My ocean's grip is inescapable. It holds me so I cannot breathe - so I cannot think. But. My ocean is familiar. I have come to see the creatures as old friends. Insanity is comfortable and warm. The hum of unreason is a lullaby I repeat to fall asleep at night. It is soft and welcomes me - beckons me closer. I ignore the calls of the boats, instead retreating into oblivion. My oce...

But I was his girlfriend. Darling, not all rapists corner you in dark alleys. Not all rapists are glaringly obvious. Not all rapists wear a name tag. But I loved him. Darling, of course you did - so much so that you let him into that part of your soul that must be handled with the utmost care. But I changed my mind. Darling, have you ever started to make yourself a cup of tea, and then as you're drinking it decide you don't want it anymore? But I gave in. Darling, be your own voice. Give your back bone feet to stand on. Give your tongue the flame of your anger. Be the poison that is rolling in your stomach. But I blame myself. Darling, he is a coward. He is small. He is not a man, not a lover, not an equal. He is too insecure to listen to your no, that he hears please. Only a fool would misinterpret your stop as his go.

Today I begin to imagine you. You have my eyes, his chin, my hair, his nose. You have my passion, my enthusiasm, his character, his creativity. Today I wonder how I will put a name to someone I've never met. Are you a Lucy? A Peter? A Lucas? A Claire? Will you hate your name and wish I'd have called you French Toast, because it's your favourite food? Today I imagine the person you'll become. Will you be a wrestler, a ballerina, a firefighter, a teacher? Will you stay in school until you're 30 because you have no clue what you want to do? Today I think about the teenage years. The cold shoulders, the slammed doors. The tears, the mistakes. But also the laughing. The conversations until midnight. The inside jokes, the love. Today I fail to find a heartbeat. Today I meet you much sooner than I was meant to. Today I fill my emptiness with thoughts of you. Today I reflect. Today I let go a balloon filled with my prayers and dreams. Today I hope it f...

I wanted to see you today, but when I called you didn't answer. I don't understand your silence. We had such a wonderful time yesterday curled up on your couch, binge watching old episodes of Friends, eating ice cream out of the carton with a spoon. You skipped work for me yesterday. I thought I was important to you, even though the other day I overheard you telling your mother that you wish I would just go away, that you can't handle my neediness or my loneliness. I'm sorry that you're my only friend. I love you. Why can't you love me? Why do I have to try so hard to get your attention? I saw you last night. I know you're taking pills and hiding it from me. Why can't you be honest with me? I won't judge you. I love you just as you are. You know you can tell me anything. We've been together for so long that sometimes I think I take you for granted. I believe you'll always be there. But you've gone and made other friends. You've taken ...

It's the invitation I feel obligated to accept even though I don't know the host. It's the sweater that grandma knitted for me, even though it's itchy and not my colour. It's the million errant thoughts that go through my mind every time I step outside my door. It's the receipt I won't throw away because I know when I do the item will need to be replaced. It's the hundred different ways I can misinterpret a word. It's the thousand different scenarios I play in my head just so I'm ready for any eventuality. It's what could possibly go wrong when the other person doesn't show up. Car wreck, heart attack, mugger, broken bones, any situation in which they are injured and dying. It's the tight chest, the buzz in my head, the feeling of floating beside myself and being completely trapped in my mind's basement. It's the drop of my heart, the whooshing of my blood in my ears, the lump of my stomach in my throat. It's the party tha...

I can. I can stop your groping touches, your quiet tread over my threshold, your silent message that I am sexually irresistible at 6 years old. I can one day think of you - not as a gnashing monster ready and willing to turn innocence into a hollow shadow - but as a sick, foreign being that I can fight. I can. I can hide my insecurities, my discomfort, my problems, my darkness. I can tuck them away for you. For your assurance that you brought me up despite everything stacked against  you . I can neatly place myself in a small box so  you  don't feel like a failure. I can fold my messy, fitted sheet just like it came from the store so  you  don't have to feel the frustration of  my  inadequacy. I can let forth my Pandora's Box of secrets because it is time. It is time for me to stop squashing myself to accommodate  you . I can. I can step up to the plate and knock that curve ball out of the park when you won't even show up for try-outs. I can be t...