Don

In her sleeves drowned
bees drift in freeze dried hair
Someday fear will come
she will not die when it’s fair

When words fester 
chaos can be counted on
to show up dressed as grief
Curled into sleepless nights

under your sleeping bagged eyes
uncomfortably restricted thoughts
tossed dreams against your lashes

As she begins to absorb your passion
clarity and strength
emboldened in hilarity 
honoured to carry you
under her eyes
sleep well
wise friend.

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To be Considered

Who will see me when my skin lets go of my bones?
who will see me when my eyes cloud over while my nose continues to grow?

not that girl
who stands guard
in meek resolve uses that
tone of voice
and the illusion of choice she “asks” me if I’d like
milk or water to help me swallow
and when the pill gets stuck above the lump in my throat

I tell her I’m confused and I don’t feel well.
She pats my back and uses that
tone of voice
that sucks my breath
she tells me she’ll tell someone else and to enjoy this beautiful day.

My body hurts
deeply I am so tired
I never considered my life would or could be like this in the end

We have a humaine society for our pets
but we imprisin our mothers and fathers with our love.

Bubbles on the Rocks

I thought I would know
after high school on a plane to Calgary
tears hidden inside my bucket hat
further then I’d ever been from friends and family

I thought I would know
when I met folks kinda like me
fuelled my search with beer and cigarettes
just like everyone I leaned on to see

All I really know
as my hair turns grey I get glimpses of me
but she says things I can’t understand
so I sabotage her with bubbles on the rocks

I thought I would know
when I got married
When I had children
a house, a car, two cats
Things that define what it means to be a grown up

All I really know
is some of that is me
and when I listen to the voice
that guides my pen, my feet and my knife
I notice the love I have
for the love in my privileged life

And I’ll take it all
With bubbles on the rocks

Contre

Lost in a suitcase
squished between stretched
shape wear and ripped jeans
by all the armour it takes
to arm a girl;

contre l’amour
contre vieillit
contre le réalité

To be honest
I struggle/shrug
in typical
unsure fashion
the zipper won’t
close anyways
I can’t make
guilt fit beside
screen time and
dirty diapers.