Sarcophagus

Here is a girl.
Or rather, a sculpture of a girl,
Carefully chiseled by experience itself
And sanded down to precision over the course of many years
From a distance she looks human.
Her clothes, her hair, her bag on her shoulder
Blend her into the mass around her known as society.
But she is not a human.
She is nothing but a statue- unmovable, unwavering, stoic.
Her eyes are but mirrors, reflecting.
They reflect the faces and the emotions of those who pass by her.
They agree and they sympathize,
And sometimes they make people forget that by themselves,
They are emotionless.
They are only mirrors, after all.
And like all mirrors, they go blank when the image leaves.
Mirrors are deceiving sometimes, but they never lie.
Only the rest of her does.
Beneath her armoured skin lives chaos.
It spits and burns like bile,
Trapped inside its stone dungeon.
It churns around her insides like a venomous snake
And she fights it.
She lashes back at it, suppresses it.
Sometimes she manages to squeeze it so tightly,
It oozes out a substance that, only in the vaguest of senses,
Resembles happiness.
And only because it has nothing left to give.
This is the viscous substance that slides unwillingly out of her skin,
Into the outside world.
It too, is deceptive.
It is poison, but it makes her seem ever so slightly mirthful.
Thankfully, it is all the world needs to be convinced that she is an ordinary human being.
Ordinary. Human. Two things she will never be.

Let's Play Pretend

We think we are so amazing. We boast ourselves up to being knowledgeable, competent, successful. We convince ourselves that we exist to serve a purpose; that somehow, we are part of something larger, something grand and magnificent that we as individuals could never be. We are so good at deceiving ourselves, for we have managed to shroud reality in so many thousands of layers of pride that we forget that the tiny speck of reality is even there. But it is. And it utters the loathsome words every single person on this planet hates to hear. We are nothing. We are so insignificant, it is nearly laughable. We will never be the greatest. We will never measure up to the grand costumes we dream ourselves into. But what does it matter? It's all just a game of make-believe anyway. So here's a mask; let's play pretend.

Untitled

Lights up

She spIns, round and round, her body a whirlwind of colourful fabric. In her mind an awestruck audience gazes at her gloWing form onstage. She smiles a brilliant smile and perfects another pIrouette. Then she sees him. He stands there, lurking in the shadows, haLf-hidden behind a bLood red curtain, watching her. His arms are crossed tightly agaiNst his chest and although his face rEflects the warm glow of the stage lights, his eyes are cold. "Chin up!" His voice booms across the theater. She stumbles and nearly falls, but catches herself just in time. She angles her face up towards the blinding lights. Even with her eyes closed she could see his disapproVal. "Keep your back straight! Lift your arms highEr! No! Don't lock your knees!" The commands fly at her, fast as shRapnel and just as sharp. She winces upon every word, feeling them like the swift taps of his metre stick whipping her body into position. "Faster!" She grits her teeth and spins faster. "Faster!" The world becomes a blur before her eyes. "FASTER!" Her limBs threaten to fall off, but she continues to wind hersElf tighter and tighter. Her crowd of admirers have lonG since disappeared, undoubtedly hOrrified by the uncontrollable hurricane that was once a girl, but they dOn't matter anymore. A thousand images flooD her mind, countless picturEs of her younger self biting back tears as he forced her to perfect stretches and splits, leaps and turNs, mercilessly mOlding her into a creatUre of grace and beauty. Hysteria invades her body. She screams. "Are you proud of me now!? Are you happy?" She explodes across the staGe in a series of indescribably fast movements, sHrieking. "Look at me! Are you watching? Are you proud of me yet!? Are you proud of me...."

A girl collapses on an empty stage. Her makeup is streaked with tears. Her hair, having long since escaped its once-neat bun, falls in ragged locks over her shoulders. Her clothing is ripped nearly to shreds. Her desperate cries echo from the stage, haunting the theater, but there is no one there to hear her.


Blackout

McGill

I think I've grown accustomed to the idea of missing you. Not losing you- just missing you.

Of Wooden Swords and Paper Crowns

He sits now by the riverbank,
His heart like the rock he skipped; it sank
Its dreams it took along with his
Down past the rippling surfaces

"How long ago?" he wonders aloud.
Though the stream makes no replying sound
"Since I was crowned a noble king
In this mystical kingdom ever shining?

"How long ago with my steed did I ride
Across this grassy countryside
To meet with my beloved maiden fair
And to help pick dandelions for her hair?

"We'd take turns in afternoons
Riding my horse fashioned from a broom
How could we forget our noble stallion
Whom we decorated with paper medallions?

"We'd fight dragons, win, and then we'd gloat
Parading across planks over the river moat
We'd draw pictures of our battle scenes for hours
Then show them off in our tree house towers

"And even after the battles died
We made bottle cap medals, worn with pride
Secured them tight with safety pins
On the old jacket of mine I felt bravest in

"My father's worn out hunting coat
Was the armor that I treasured most
It was scuffed and torn, but that to me
Was the very image of bravery

"Through battles fought with wooden swords
And the many kingdoms we explored
We always came home to adoration
As we humbly accepted our coronation

"Those were the days of true chivalry
When our lives fit together so perfectly
So sad that the world that meant so much to me
Is nothing now but a sweet memory"

And yet, as the sun sets over the field
A part of his mind cannot help but yield
The fleeting image of two silhouettes
Playing in a world they will never forget

My Forever

We're lying here, my head on your chest
My heart beats steady to the sound of your breath
We're staring up at your ceiling, when suddenly
It becomes a white canvas stretched over me

My paintbrush flies, uncontrollable
My imagination so emotional
And so I paint them, scene by scene
Like photos on a projector screen

We're on a grassy hill in mid July
The moon rivals the clouds for a brilliant night sky
But as we start to dance to the grassy sway
The crickets' lullabies fade away

The stoke of midnight through a canopy of leaves
Brings a wave of goosebumps beneath our sleeves
While we look for our futures in an open fire
Telling stories of our hearts' desires

I can feel the wind streak through my hair
As we plummet through the icy air
And leave behind great clouds of snow
Waving the mountains goodbye, we'll go

We're at the top of the world, a breathtaking sight
Even for those afraid of heights
Children's laughter fill the fair
Balloons and popcorn everywhere

Silence now, we're along the shore
Our names in the sand in a heart once more
The waves will make our castles fall
But we can never resist the water's call

We find ourselves on an ocean liner
The shimmering lights could not be finer
They match the sparkles in the west
As the stars pull a blanket over the sunset

And as we're lying here, my head on your chest
My heartbeat still paces with the sound of your breath
Not nearly as perfect alone as we are together
This could be our forever

*In My Heart

You can see the ambition in his eyes
That say he'll never be satisfied
With this little town, too quiet and still
All dreamy eyes and elbows on windowsills

But I've always had a dreamer's heart
With which I could never have thought to part
Yet here it is, upon my sleeve
Just like him, all packed to leave

And as the train rolls out of sight
Our lips, they whisper their last goodbyes
And as the tingle fades from his last kiss
Remind myself I want for him only happiness

With my elbows on my windowsill
I wait for the day I know that he'll
Come back to me, a promise kept
We said goodbye but * he never left