In august..
I love Alberta camping.


AmbivalenceI hate you. You owe me twenty dollars. Youre gone forever and thats all I can think about. This reminds me of the time I pushed you down the stairs, And then got mad at you for breaking the banister, And getting blood all over the floor. I might be sorry for that. Im not really sure. You probably deserved it. Somehow. You were always so angry. Always yelling. I really hated the way you looked when you were mad.Ambivalence
I dont know how I lived with you for so long. Or how you stayed with me all that time. We were so wrong for each other.


I Know When Its A DreamI used your nail polish today. The sparkly pink kind that you liked so much. My brother called me a faggot. He doesnt get it.I Know When Its A Dream
If only he knew you. He wouldnt have said that. It was your favourite. I remember the day you bought it.
Two months ago. Downtown. It was raining. You wore that red dress I love. You looked beautiful. But I didnt tell you that. You always looked beautiful. I wish I had told you. If you were still here with me I would say it everyday. You wouldnt believe me. You always thought I was jokin


Working Hard?Im sitting.Working Hard?
Procrastinating.
Thinking.
Lying to myself.
About things.
People.
You.
Wishing I was creative.
Telling myself I am.
Wishing I was talented.
Pretending.
Wishing I could sleep.
Wishing that you cared.
You might.
You made me believe you.
Do me a favour.
Dont tell me you were faking it.
Its so difficult.
And confusing.
I wrote another letter.
Thats three now.
Quite the suck.
Im bored.
Im always bored.
I wish I had someone to talk to.


a dead boys poemWe are becomea dead boys poem
stitch doctors. Magnificent (opera)tors of the vast magnolia. Picking
pinch- squeezing old wounds until we spill just enough blood to call it art. Then
quickly we grab the gauze and dab the cut dry again embarrassed eyes apologizing for the dirty mess we didn't mean to make,
while passion and lust go wilting
into a dirty corner.
I WANT YOU TO SPILL ME. SLIT MY WRISTS!!! GO ON. SLASH ME LIKE A SMILE.
let that good blood flow full, red as the swollen moon in


to my fatherboy you lovedto my father
would golden grin at you. boy you loved
would laugh when your whiskers
scratched his chin. boy you loved in the morning watched the dust dance on the light and squeezed your thumb at night until his fingers were white as ghosts bones.
(but the boy you loved grew up... a little.)
He still can't see far enough to see tomorrow, not even on the clearest Sunday. but he finally took the revolver from his temple and put this bullet into words. finally stitched himself into zeros finally is: &nbs
Rasperry
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