the long walk home.

every unfamiliar road I’ve ever walked has led me to you
and every bleak mile I’ve walked was a triumph to me
because with every single step I drew closer to your arms
to the one and only place that has ever felt like home to me

and your kiss still tastes the same a year and some days later
your hands still run down my neck the way they did before
and despite the distance and the disenchantment I endured
your warmth is still persistent in cutting through my clouds

because everything has changed and yet our us is still the same
like kids in love, with devoted eyes and honest lips
and the world still slips away and melts around us
encasing us in the euphoria and beautiful nothing that is love


Your voice was the rain against the ground outside the open window
Seeping into the dirt and quenching the thirst of a year’s worth of winter.
I could hear your laugh in the pitter patter on the pavement and
It beckoned me back to the better days that I cling to so desperately
Because it was your love that filled my heart with these muted photographs
That I keep in their own cardboard box, hidden but left wide open.
I find myself going through them almost every single day, lingering
On the ones where you’re hiding from the camera, shying away
Because in a sense it’s a gift that you gave to me unknowingly
For only I know how beautiful that portrait was a split second before
And you left me that memory to be cherished uniquely, selfishly
But it’s all I can do some days not to stare at them blankly
Wondering where in the world I let all of those moments become
Nothing more than a collection of blurry, off-centre photographs
That I have subsisted on ever since we went our separate ways.

green lights

…all the lights were green in my favour
so I walked across town, not once breaking stride
crossing city streets like fingertips over piano keys
I was unhindered, as the wind might stop for nothing
and the lights were green for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…
… it’s that same wind that brushes my face
that brings me back to the rainy days in love
spent wrapped up in cold air and clean sheets
kissing each other as if it would kill us to stop
and the lights were green for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…
…and it’s that green that lingers on my mind like the smell of smoke
from the wildfire that has engulfed my chest for 751 days and counting
it’s the green on the trees in the adolescent spring
and those jade-coloured gems that I cherish still
but most importantly I know that green means go
and the lights are green for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…
and so I’ll go.

brown grass

I empathize with the tufts of brown grass
emerging triumphantly from their glacial graves
in patches of morosity across these suburban streets
caught between the possibilities of death and rebirth
a testament to the idea of life after living and that
all we know is cyclical and nothing is forever
that the pressure and the cold will not endure
and that eventually the sunshine will cut the ice
to revitalize the fields, bring back the dandelion days
but not everything in this world can be evergreen
and I’ve finally learned that I am no exception.


pressed to the glass of the chamber, you left

my love in a vacuum, gasping for air and bereft

of the oxygen needed to keep the fire in my eyes burning

now just afflicted with a gnawing hunger, a yearning

because my heart still trembles when I think of you

and to not fall apart is about all I can do.


A gentle daylight peeks through the curtain
A shimmering gold painting your paper skin
That glows in the dark of the cabin we’re in
Like fireflies dancing, again and again.
You’re peaceful as ever and beautiful as always
We’ll wander the floors and search through the hallways
And dance on the deck while it moves with the waves
Rocking relentlessly, day after glorious day.

to mean nothing, everything

when I said that you were beautiful, I meant it
and it made me know that I had never truly
meant anything before in my entire life

when I told you that my heart was yours, I meant it
and I felt in that vulnerability a freedom that
was like flying, untethered and unabashedly carefree

when I asked you not to leave, I meant it
and it was in my pleading that my heart imploded
leaving my blood to evaporate, turned to steam from my anger

when I said that you meant everything to me, I meant it
but you never meant a damn thing you said.


her love makes me feel like a child again
like two cups, connected with string at both ends
we find joy in the streets on a long summer day
and we dance in the rain, wash our problems away.

she is the promise of freedom that comes with July
and the grass stains on blue jeans, that look in her eye
gives me jitters like Christmas Day, running downstairs
to find presents abounding, abandon all of my cares.

I’m convinced that the fountain of youth is her smile
and that her laugh can help anyone breathe for a while
I only wish she could know how the tip of her tongue
forms the words that envelop me, make me feel young.


I filled a notebook full of days that I owed you
and wrote songs about the way I wanted to
escape myself and be your wholehearted infinity
but was simply enthralled in your false divinity

and I should’ve known the moment that I heard
your shameless infidelity, exposed with every word
but I wanted so excruciatingly badly to stay true
despite the fact that I couldn’t expect the same from you

to this day I feel the inadequacy, it shapes my bones
like a blade wielded by skillful hands, it hones
my fitfull sleeps, my empty nights spent far away
thinking of how I once thought maybe you would stay

my heart mistaken, still cannot throw off the chains
because your venom still courses through my veins
but I’m fighting every single day to better myself
and that’s why I finally took your ring off the shelf.

pillow talk

stranded on a satin ocean that bears no relief
I hear sirens that call from the crest of the waves
for I haven’t seen your face in eleven days and I
still can’t fall asleep when you’re away.
if this bed were the ocean, you’d be the stars
so close in reflection but so very far and I
still find your hair on the pillow you left
just a piece of a piece of you I now protect
in my fitful attempts to find sleep every night
while the infant dawn starts to show its traces of light
and I think of how your light could cut through my night
and how you are my moon and for now, out of sight.