Category: Behind the Scenes
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strawberry full moon (postcards from canada)
they ask meto meet themoceanside.drift awayunder astrawberryfull moon. i arrivelatebut eager. off grid,stanley park. California approaches. “hi.. what’s your name? i’ve got something for youto break the ice.”he gestures to his sling bag. “no thanks, i’m working,”i gesture to my camera. “here, for you when you’re done. find me when your done.”he slips, plastic, into my back pocket. …
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good morning, Belguim. (november)
they left. everyoneeveryoneeveryonehas left. i’m numb,i can’t be sad anymore. the hiccuped tearsfind their closure. in the deepest of subconscious knowings- isn’t this what i wanted? somehow, it just doesn’t feellike what i wanted. the abandonment is the adhesive-blinders on. novemberdims the skies, for fairy lightsand other worldly realms. now is the time, to write the book. i begin. one thousand. two thousand… words… time,now measuredin cafe…
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burrard inlet (postcards from canada)
i arrive, granville island. my hair is down, long blonde hair softly curled. pops of undertone baby pink peak out from the bottom, whisperings of “i felt sad and needed color.” i’m dressed in my favourite dress, peachy pink with floral blues.i even do my makeup too, soft and subtle, but intentional. a pop of glitter white in the corners…
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West 4th Avenue (a reprise)
baby boyi filtered myselfi’m not sure who i’m protectingbut i went a little too easy on you rooftop partiesmade to impress. you know,you didn’t have to try so hard. i’m not on the table for taking. truth isyou pissed me offthe way you looked me up and downi never felt so fucking objectified, humiliated. the way i had…
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September
i sensea pulling of the arrow back-grief waves and panic attacks. i feel shut downsof internal systems.i ask for gracefrom my loved ones.i’m struggling,i’m failing them. oh.. i feel their pity..i don’t want that.sick animals must disappear to heal their wounds,i have alot of those..it’s almost too many, too deep, too infected.so i retreat.sun setsto blue hour,…
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