Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The High Life

It's decent. What else?
Take a good look at what this really means, girl.
Step back and soak in the sickening symbolism;
Are you wondering why you even bother? Good.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


Somethings to keep in mind:
it's a pill and you've got to take it.
swallowed in an open field
with lights and centripetal forces...
winds like breathing and i'm aboard.
and with no escape in sight,
my bags hit the floor.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

the middle ear

there are things i can't see.
they swish and gasp in the puddles of my inner ear.
slightly buzzing across the blood in my brain they are making waves that i can't ignore; that i feel in the back of my shoulder blades.
a nauseating tide that rises and falls so quickly i start from the tall grass and end in the middle of the ocean in seconds.
something has changed now. my inner ear is still. there is nothing struggling against gravity.
now, with my ears submerged in the deep salty blankets there are things i can't hear.
and all i see is an unsettling shade of refracted blue. no edges, no margins.
a reflection of a boy standing in front a mirror. a ghost in the skies.
and his stare is yours; made of the dark middles of hurricanes.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

unbreakable orbits

aye, that's the rub.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

the ghost of genova heights

The endless nights of Genova Heights. I had to leave. I had to leave.

-Stars @ the Pheonix, Toronto

Thursday, November 29, 2007

A far cry from a prince...

Remember when i went away? Remember when i called you and cried into my end of the phone?
"Where is my little rose? Has the sheep got to her? The elements, maybe?" Surrounded by the unending beauty of the European countryside all I wanted was to be with my rose.
Now is not so different. I must return to you, my little rose. You have sent me messages from your end of the phone this time too, and you are also crying. You have described to me the sheep's suggestive glances. And now I am wondering if I forgot your glass bowl...
So i will fall into the sand as a tree does (without a sound).

I love you, my rose.
And I'm sorry I left your teddy on the underground.

Le Jour d'Avant- Yann Tiersen