I thought of you today
Many times
Thought that i
Can make it
Up to you
With my fingers and tongue
I can make it up to you
With our hair tangled together
And my body absorbing
Your body
I can
Make it up to you
By dying a shitty death
And fucking off forever
I can make it up
To you

You wanted to be the big spoon for once in my room. I felt loved for the first time in my life. I cried that night after you fell asleep for i knew it would be the last time anybody held me lovingly. For i cry too much. And i don't give a fuck. My feelings are fleeting and you're feelings are fickle. Our bodies awake from the slumber of warmth. Your green eyes shot with tears. Already you forgot that you loved me before. Someday you'll wake up cold and lonely, reminicent about the past while me and my room have already left.

I wanted to tell her how beautiful she was but i just stood there. She always looked the best when she was breaking my heart. And i know i don't deserve this-to laugh and to cry and to breathe in her presence. Steady now. Mile per hour. Awkward, slow and steady down the steep hill to the ocean. Go. Glow. Thinking about her fingers. They will become scars. Haunting. They will become the stars. Theres nothing broken in this moment.

Once on a summers eve i was wandering aimlessly around the downtown whence i came upon an alleyway. Narrow. Red brick. Rain slipped. Ethereal. It lead to a series of alleys behind a bakery, and a barber shop, and a corner convenience. It was between this barber's and baker's buildings that the otherworldly alley appeared like a portal, not of space or dimentions, but of time and even more so, memory. It happened that a man was murdered here. Stabbed by a child, only 17. It was once a crime scene and also a night home to vagrants years before. It remembers countless couples stealing a kiss against the red walls and pressing each into the cracks and crevices, under the influence of lust, love and substances. Too narrow for cars but it recalls the bikes of boys buying bread for their families. These stories were told without a word on the walls as so often they become a canvas to the creative and the courageous, the space instead spoke for itself. For in its fragility and purity it was of this world, picturesque and yet common place.

As i sit here completely alone i am entirely transparent. I am a greenhouse filled with ghosts. I am unhappy and obviously in anger. I am myself malcontent and hold myself in contempt for the things i should have said and never did. I will let you go if you ask me to. My love is steady, baby, thats what i feel now. Lets call this exactly what it is; i want you back at any cost. I am opaque in my desires, often not entirely clear, i say things but always mean, i love you and i want you back underneath it all. You can be beams of light piercing my body and warming the air. Honestly i can't remember my teenage feelings but they seemed to be true. The who's are always there but the why's were unclear. But the complicated beginning and end to this never left me. I'm sorry it took me so long to come around. And what a big mistake it was to block you, the self doubt still keeps me awake. It keeps me close like a promise kept. I talk in my sleep. I'm sorry it took me so long.

I have dreadlocks of neglect
I have black eyes but not blinded yet
I have fragments left of intellect
But a like minded person i have not met yet
I still sleep on a sheetless mattress
I still smell you on my pillows
Which is cause to still call you my mistress
Which is why i now weigh 75 kilos

You bobby pinned your auburn hair back as we crossed over the new brunswick state line in my grandfathers car we were fleeing the scene of a nova scotia coast line. Where we buried our dreams among the gridlock and concrete. Bareful we pulled off the road and stepped into the summer night. And we drank greedily of greenery and open air.

Where did you live and what did you learn there? Leave my car parked on the lawn its been another year. Is this a dream or reality? Where do the pieces of our dreams recede? What of all the warnings from friends to stay away that i do not heed? I've been searching for this-something i can run away with. Its a danger, I've been warned, but i still stretch and try to reach it. We watch the world grow through window panes and screens we speak to, and they speak back. Where does the water flow when it leaves our home? Whenever, if ever i get my life together I'll decide what to think of all the years i spent in Halifax.

There are a few things i want to say besides i love you and i miss you. I want you to know that i know you didnt try to hurt me, that you tried to make me go home before i got hurt but i was blinded and drunk on being around you. I know you wont ever talk to me again, after what happened and I've come to peace with that. I just want you to have proof that i will love you for as long as i think and that i still think of you constantly. I don't know why i want you to know that, its a weakness in me i guess. Do you remember the day after my 19th birthday when i approached you as you sat on the grass? I have never been so nervous in my life. I already loved you. I can't remember what was said but i remember leaving you to go to prince hall. I hate myself for not staying with you as long as you'd stand me. I was trying to be cool i guess but i probably just came off as an asshole. Full of shit. You don't have to worry about me ever returning to nova scotia. My life there died with our love and i held on like an idiot for two extra years when i should have just left. I'm sorry for putting you through that. I still think of the night you, tori and i were standing on Plato's cave watching the sunset and when we left to go inside you slipped on ice and i didnt catch you in time. You were wearing beautiful heels and i saw the ice but i was just so happy to be with you i didnt think anything bad could happen to either of us. I sometimes think to myself that i was walking on clouds and you were never in love with me like i was with you, and you slipping was proof i didnt make you fly and that i could not be there for you combined. There are things i want to say like i quit smoking weed and drinking alcohol. I still smoke cigarettes and shoot opiates, mostly dilaudid, because they make me feel closer to you. I didnt really start smoking until i met you and i started doing opiates after i started missing seeing you like crazy and didnt have to try to be a role model for you to quit doing them. Thats something i really regret is trying to make you quit hard drugs. I was naive and self righteous at the time and i thought id seem stable or like a good guy if i told you to stop them but secretely i loved you more for doing them and now I'm addicted. What a fucking hypocrit i am. I hope to god you stayed on suboxone and you're staying clean. I think kyle is great for you and i can tell he really loves you but i don't want him to keep you in the same pattern of doing them forever. Now I'm all emotional. I just want the best for you and if that means you don't want to even look at this book thats for the best. I just couldn't stop myself. I know I'm probably the worst ex boyfriend or just ex friend you've ever had or heard of. I'm just really unstable and self loathing but i swear id never hurt you again like when i broke your window. Thats why i had to get out of halifax. Not because id ever hurt you again but because seeing how much you came to dislike me made me hate myself and i became really emotionally unstable as a result. I keep that note you left be before Christmas break in my wallet. I look at it so much its falling apart. I know now what it means, and I'm afraid I'm abusing the address you left me, and i call the phone number sometimes and hang up when i can't help myself. I find myself in these really dark places sometimes that i can only get out of by thinking about you. I don't think about the sex or anything. Just meals we had or that time we spent the afternoon drawing or smoking weed beside the dumpsters. Simple things that stuck. I honestly don't go 5 minutes without thinking of you. Its bad and since I'm left alone without friends to help me through it anymore its gotten much worse than it ever was when i was in halifax. At least there i could immerse myself in friends and my band and sharing music, going to eat new places, walking to the ocean. Anything, but here, i have one friend (not the one you saw on skype) and a family that resents my life and my failure at it. I don't work due to temporary illness the doctors can't diagnose but still let me be on disability. Its heartbreak but I'm too embarassed to admit that to anyone. I even had therapists in halifax and i tried one when i got back to ontatio but talking about it was just too difficult and too shameful. I never heard voices. Making that up was just my way of trying to get attention from my therapist and friends and you. The truth was that i was just extremely suicidal. I walked across the bridge from halifax to dartmouth almost every night thinking about hurling myself into the freezing cold water with rocks in my pockets to weigh me down. Or id just cross busy streets without looking, lean off rooftops that id climb on alone, scaling cliff walls or lying on the train tracks. Telling you this isnt a cry for help, doing it may've been but i didnt tell anyone what i was doing when i would be gone for hours at night. The truth is id often walk by your house or your window at alex hall, spending time across the street trying to look in. Hiding myself around corners of buildings like a criminal, like the lowlife i am. No, I'm telling you this because that all changed when i got home to barrie, i thought i thought about suicide alot then but once i got home i thought about it exponentially more, i just didnt do anything about it. I fantasize about my death almost as much as i think about you and often times i think of you and death in conjunction. I think about your death-about how i couldn't handle it. I think about a lot of major events that will happen to you. I think about your graduation and possible masters or law school. I think about your summer jobs and your first real career job. I think about your inevitable wedding day. Your first child. When you buy your first house. I think about someone in your family dying. Your brother and sisters growing up around you and going to school. I think about your mother and step father-how good people have bad things happen to them. I worry about them and the rest of your family. I worry about your grandmother that i met how she will pass away one day. I think about your dog (captain?) and his happy small world in your beautiful home and backyard. I get extremely jealous of your dog. I think about how you might make a life for yourself in Truro. Or somewhere else but how you'll return there every few months for the rest of your forseeable life. Sometimes i think about you doing simple things; shopping for groceries, sneaking a cigarette at night, meeting friends for coffee, finishing a paper on ancient greece. I think of you filing paperwork and driving with your mom somewhere. I think of you confidently kissing in public. I think of you hiding things like your black poetry notebook or boys numbers or something you stole and feel bad about. I picture you smiling in my minds eye or looking at yourself in the mirror. I imagine you checking the length of your hair, maybe getting bangs cut again. Sometimes i think of you having sex and it turns me on but i have no enthusiasm to masturbait to anything really. Thinking of you as such a lady as to elegantly please your man in whatever mannor you decide, there is no measure in this world great enough to say how much i wish that was me again, even for the briefest, fleeting moment. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to have stolen as much time from you as i have and will never ask another thing of this universe for the rest of my life for it would be greedy of me to want something beyond what i have had. Needless to say i have not touched another girl (or boy for that matter), nor taken another lover to let one taint my love for you in the simplest ways, not for a second. It hurts me that i don't see you in every other girl that i see, but it makes me appreciate your unique beauty before any wonder or miracle in my experience. If i had seen a even the faintedt glimmer of you in another girl i still would never so much as think about doing anything about it-i know myself too well to have hopes for another love as pure and innocent as mine for yourself. This i know you've heard before and does not matter to anyone but myself, i know, i know. But part of my dreams it brings you comfort, knowing i will to be forever yours entirely. Then again part of me dreams you will find me when we're 80 and live our last years together in a golden slumber. One can dream but it is my opinion that those dreams only slow my love actualizing itself perfectly in our absense. I've come to believe that it is in its absense, where love truly can become its true form. The fact that you don't think of me fondly or at all is proof that your love for me was never true and as my love for you consumes my being it speaks to me to preserve it as it is, that one day when i forget all and everything, my heart will have rememberence of something true and great though my mind and body forgets. I have dreamt of flying to halifax and busing to truro to see your family as they were the day i left you at your house. I imagine everyone will be as they were that new year so long ago, that you'd welcome me and things could be the same or better. Sometimes my dream shows me the reality of what would happen, polite unwelcome and disgust, surprise and resentment. I really just wish to apologize to your parents for my immaturity and your mistreatment at my hands. I wish i could sleep in your old bed. See Gabrielle written on your old bedroom's wall. Hear someone who loves you say your name to me, casually. I wish i hadnt deleted all our friends off facebook and I'm glad i had at the same time. I wish someone would tell me how you were and yet i never want to talk to them again. Not because of you but because of who i was when i lived there. I was pathetic and desperate. Not that I've changed but no one can see me as i am here except my family. I am confident in my worthlessness and I am vocal in my depression. My life has one meaning and it is still to love you to my best ability, and thats my only ability. Its a debilitating love and thats no ones fault but my own. Before i met you i knew i hadnt loved anyone yet and thats why i was a virgin who had barely kissed a single girl. I knew i had to wait to fall in love because i knew i was a true lover in the most classical and pure sense of the word. I was optemistic that love would work for me and id marry and die with you but i was still preparing myself for this. I've always been prepared to love one person violently for the rest of my life. Its my one idealistic belief besides pacisfism, which is clearly less important to me than love, as for my threatened love-i punched an innocent person (for my own betterment and not for your sake, to be absolutely clear). Thats just one of many examples as to why i don't belong with you. My ideal of love is just beyond what any other person should be subjected to and it drives me crazy when I'm around you. Even 110 miles away I'm still unable to function in the real world because of how much i miss you. That isnt to say i blame you for anything, it just means I'm unfit for any relationships or friendships with anyone and my inability to take care of myself is further proof. I'm best off just living with my parents without any friends or change for the rest of my life in a boring town, not hearing from you, until i get my hands on a gun or get the balls to end my life another way.

Sometimes i look for hours at old pictures and letters you left for me. I couldn't get tired of seeing that familiar face and the letters of every note that make up the message. I love how you dot your i's and i can still hear your accent when you wrote those and home. I still drown in the curves of your green eyes. I still try to to find the meaning behind those old messages. I'm not likely to find comfort in either of those memories but I'm still trying to find peace in the little things that you called ours. Not sure what to make of it all, four years down the road with plenty more to go. I just wish i had more than one fucking letter, and that you didnt delete my pictures off of my computer. But all thats what i deserved. All i have left is all i deserve.

When i look into
Your real eyes I realize
The real lies you spun

This is not the time or place to address the emptyness of the life i chose. We both know i let you go to be happier than i could ever make you. The uncertainty about me was never meant to make you uneasily impressed. I guess its best that you are finished with the college where we met. And i really agree that that group of friends wasnt right for me. I know I'll never see you alive again but I'll make good on my promise to be there after the end. Thats something that i own- I've been thinking I'm friendlier to the deceased in the ground.

Before i met you i didnt know what it was to love. I had never felt insane. I had nothing to covet. I never stood outside a window in the rain. After i left you I've been living like a sailor. Isolated for months, my love left behind on the coast. Now my hearts buried in the ocean and my home is non existent.

I say yo more than hey or hi. I use peace more than goodbye. I describe affection with love rather than like. Id take a bus above taking out my bike. I text instead of call. I wear a large not a small. I prefer to listen to full albums over single songs. I am more often right than i am wrong. I do not play many video games alone. I spend most of my time at home. I don't read much but if i do its non fiction. Friends and family would say i care for diction. I am often in good health. It is uncomfortable to talk about myself.

Our time together was nothing more than tiny dots on an endless timeline. There is a fine line of difference between the time we were together and when we were just in close proximity. You know while i was out there i always put myself out there on that line for you. I made as many dots as i could on either side. Positive or negative my will was actively assure in defining my time out there with those moments of being with you or living without.

I'm trying to fill these pages as fast as i can so i can send this to you as soon as i can. But i can no longer fill the pages with any original idea so long after what has happened between us. There is nothing in my future but these sutures holding my broken heart together falling apart. I'm writing "i can" as much as i can to stay as positive as i can be. I can not tell if its working.

I fantasize that
You secretly had my child
And didnt tell me

All i can see is a tiny profile picture in my sent messages. Otherwise empty, that fixture is an ever changing portrait of what I'm missing in my life. Why can i see the sunspots in your eyes when you're inside? How am i still that something you put aside and forgot about. Die inside when i see the haircuts that you tried.

I have no inspiration, nor stimulation so i only write what i know too well. About my new life, theres nothing to tell. I still think about your little sisters calling you Elle. And how you were Gabby to all of our friends. Maybe if i followed their trends we could make amends. But to me you will always be Gabrielle until every ends.

You no longer hear the music when the lights go out. You say "wont you please forgive me". Now i no longer hear the music. I listen to our favourite songs as i try to fall asleep in the dark room-no one knows i weep for us forever and always but i no longer hear the music. I just cry with it in the backround because You no longer hear the music when you're with me. "Wont you please forgive me"

My instinct was to make you my own. When i had you entire to myself my instinct was to run away as far as i could, but never stop loving you. I was afraid of commitment, of boring you, of letting us down. Once i got a safe distance, roughly 1772 kilometers--1100 miles, i fell apart and i fell back in love with you. I sat in silence because i broke your heart. I punished myself because i let it fall apart. I waited for you to call, to write, to miss me. I'm still waiting.

He remembers how she used to say "I'm dying" so he would pick her up. He'd come running and twist his ankle on the stairs on the way up. When he got there she asked her room mate if she thought that he was cute. They walked back to his apartment and sleep together for the first few times.

I used to think that love was an ideal never to be achieved. You taught me love is an action. On my own i realized that to love means to miss with all your essence.

You took my friends with you
And i couldn't survive another day in Halifax
Now theres a hole in the map and a
hundred missing persons on my friends list
I had to delete to stay sane
I had to tear that hole in my brain
To stay sane i burnt every bridge
From moncton to nova scotia
To toronto and barrie and back
Who were those people i left on the other side
Nothing more than
Friends of friends i suppose

I fear
My vow
Solo love

For one
May or
May not
Live again

We take
Bitter medicine
So we heal
Bitter words

Always lie alone
So I
Almost die at home

Listen
Forever

To silence

This isnt about you
But i just can't get out of my head
How you used to call me a bull shitter
And a hipster
I argued that i was neither and i took slight offence
I used to get my back up
but the truth about it is
I wasnt being ironic
I was being pathetic