Hey – remember:

We are having fun today.

We’re having fun.

No, no, no!

You aren’t coming undone!

This is SO FUN.

Good. We’re glad.

You’re ready to play.

From the desk of Mrs. & Mrs.

We have decided

It’s time for a quiz.

No? Not like this?

We can’t be misguided.

You wanted this.

You wanted OUR time.

Look – it’s your text message.

So, be part of our wreckage,

Or get back in line.

You’re distressed?

Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.

Just manage.

Okay. Nothing more to express?

Good.

(Anyway! We only listen when

It’s to our advantage.)

Remember, this is fun!

Okay! Awesome!

You look worried

but it’s just a jolly lil’ test!

We hope you studied.

(Haha, just kidding.

Why aren’t you laughing?)

Enjoy yourself.

(Just do OUR bidding.)

First question.

(Oh no, sorry. Wait.

I have a safety notice.

Mrs. #2 is my possession.

So, whilst we’re open,

We’re not THAT open.

Not if it distracts

Her coerced devotion.)

Is a hot dog a sandwich?

(I know – clever huh!)

You’re drained?

That’s not an answer.

This quiz isn’t on

Emotional bandwidth.

Stay with us now.

Should a thing

That’s close, sure,

but with key technical differences,

Be in the same category?

Okay, we will humour you.

It’s like you, feeling the sting,

Whilst toiling for your recovery.

So you’re the filling

To be eaten up!

(Omg! Fun!)

Wedged between two thick slices

Of codependents.

With a tangy dill pickle

Of being dismissed

By the crown, a trainee narcissist,

And the abetter, denial.

A burger heel, who seals

That the things you feel

Aren’t even real.

This opens all the wounds

You’re trying to heal.

Then, the juicy ketchup

Of the stained results,

Because, it’s your own life

To mess up.

As for us?

Fuck the haters.

Mrs. & Mrs. cozy.

Wrapped up

In responsibility-proof

Wax paper.

So eat our bullshit.

You’re vegan?

We forgot.

Well, yes, you mentioned it

Six million times

But, bluntly,

It’s not up to us

If you go hungry.

Now you have a question?

Weird, this is our trivia session.

Have we learned our lesson?

Wowwwwwwwwwww!

You have some sort of obsession.

We were just enjoying ourselves.

With many, many, amazing things

About the Mrs. & Mrs. relationship.

Who are you anyway?

Get back on your shelf.

The last thing we need

Is you

And your guilt trip.

You’re just my partner’s partner.

And I would appreciate it

If you would leave

And stop making

MY monogamous relationship

Make-believe.

I gambled on Amazonite. /

A stir of blue, green. Like your lake. /

Your bright eyes, with me, charged by moonlight. /-

Here, your long spurned throat requites /

A heart it exiled. Together now, awake. /

I know you as true. It’s her I invite. /-

My imagination takes flight, /

As you doze in the warmth of daybreak, /

Your soft skin illuminating in the light. /-

With you before me, it feels alright. /

But, before us both, is what I forsake. /

Distain for the unuttered – I favour forthright. /-

My striving soul, unearthed, can’t sit tight; /

When these ore threads of hope are weaved into fate. /

So I write, and I write, and I write. /-

Preeminence of another’s curse takes its bite. /

Anticipation broken by a head shake. /

Once or twice before, I jilted the night. /

If its dark blight you love – I will be polite. /-

I trace faint distil of hope’s shy cascade /

Against your eyes’ green pool, appeal anew. /

My own desire, with regret, I evade. /

In the gaps amongst us, fond intent grew. /-

Long hours alone in the debt of release; /

Amused with my mind’s bright collage again. /

Evoke you in keen thoughts, to be at peace. /

Then, exhale; esteem’s reveal I abstain. /-

I regain your sincere smile, your caress. /

Then, convene awhile in my love’s imbue; /

Acquaint again with decline to confess, /

Accept our design. Heart, awash of you. /-

But, my sublime dreams ignite to commence, /

An immense delight – I have no defence. /-

The mass of my science teacher’s hair /

Loomed over the shadow of a grainy /

Projected diagram; the structure of an atom. /

Hot rush of confusion. It’s like a maze to me. /

Hand up! “Miss? What’s a neutron?” /

Replied raised mouth, unsmiling eyes. “This is basic stuff.” /

Words under squint fringe, “You were here Monday. You should know.” /

I observe the varnished desk. Silence is tough.

Because, I was sick that day. /

Stress in my stomach. Now, common occurrence. /

Another thing they don’t understand I don’t understand. /

Another presuppose without coherence. /

Eyeing the geometric art of the atom,

I felt deep empathy for the electron. /

Anxious negative charge. The fray of bound or free. An outsider. /

Akin to me. Part of the whole but feeling all wrong.

11/07/2023

Do you two remember

That night

In October

When, in a scramble

We briskly dressed

And took a gamble

On the Aurora?

Another fascination

I’d expressed.

Fresh -

From the Pandora’s

Box; of my rushing mind’s

Narration.

Wheels turning through dark

Of nameless roads unlined

To the landmark

Of cliff-edge decline.

In deep hush

We gazed.

Hopeful cheeks flush

From midnight’s rife chill.

Three gays, amazed

By expansive stars unfolding

On infinite inky glaze.

Regardless of shy polar lights

It’s the hands

I am holding

As we stand

And my heart takes flight

Our six eyes,

Scanning the night.

05/06/2023

A prophesy

Lives

Internally.

Bewailing,

Shrieks audible.

It’s a personal

Cassandra.

Repeating the mantra -

“In you, a curse is domicile.

It’s irreversible,

And inherited

Maternally.”

The clicking is long

When it’s

A ticking time bomb.

The pull of destiny

Is irresistibly strong.

Cassie realized,

Breathlessly,

That Paris had taken;

Her,

Helen,

For his wife.

How’s that

For family trauma?

And from her prison,

She screams

Through the slats.

Likewise,

Through fear – I recognize.

I ostracize myself

From those born

Of a body that mourned.

Don’t hurt them

Like she hurt you

It warned.

Because

My body

Knows the score.

So I was distant.

Before

I could embody

This persistent gloom

Upon me.

And that’s wrong too.

These beautiful souls

So attuned

To me.

From my own womb.

Deserve the best.

My authenticity,

And wounds addressed.

So to this prophetic doom;

With my healing, I’ll dispute,

Dislodge it from genetic root,

As far as I could ever presume;

As mere mortal.

Locking Cassandra

Back in her room.

Maybe, this time, for good.

13/06/2023

If ‘We’

Is you plus

She,

Then, what is

‘Us’?

Respectfully.

What’s love

Without

A traditional

Vessel?

It’s about

What’s special;

But, it’s always

Transitional.

It’s walking

The hallways

Of my consciousness,

And wondering -

What’s next?

There’s no apartment.

Or, the trappings

Of a life shared.

Where smiling

Surroundings

Are stockpiling;

A recital -

Of Mrs. & Mrs.

Reconciling,

In the commonplace

Compartments.

Every pocket, drawer,

And almost forgotten

Envelope.

That where there’s before;

There will be plenty

Of afters.

So, in what container

Can I store my own hope?

I’m weaved

Into the data

Of your phone.

(And, all your ads

In social media)

A promise,

That I’ll see you late,

Under the wildfire of Toronto,

In sepia.

I’m messages.

Where we navigate

What honest is,

Or expressing gratitude,

Post date.

It’s my backpack.

The sated receipts,

Crumpled

From restaurants.

A wilted decoration

Of it’s floor.

Like our own wallpaper.

Or the used chapsticks

Your lips haunt.

But.

I am so tired.

Of the mental gymnastics

Required

To keep some status

In your life.

An unwilling student

Of semantics.

When it’s like -

There’s no track

For movement

In a too full life

We can’t unpack.

22/06/2022

Today the sun,

Rose in Cancer’s season.

So I need connection

To believe in,

Not just anyone.

The people I invest in,

A part of my heart become.

I’m a memory keeper

And I need my conversation

Deeper.

Transformation is my liberation.

Of my past self;

A death unearthed is my rebirth.

The crab’s a spiritual seeker,

Sensitivity is my energy,

As I dance to the tune

Of the moon.

Happy Cancer Season!

21/06/2023

Fungi play

an important role

in energy cycling within,

and between,

ecosystems.

They are an essential part

of a

diverse community

of ‘decomposers’

that break down

The dead.

Without fungi

to aid in decomposition,

all life in the forest

would soon

be buried

under a mountain

of dead plant matter.

Psilocybin plays

an important role

in neurogenesis,

growth and repair,

in the brain.

It is an essential part

of the

diverse tools required

to interrupt

The living death of PTSD.

Without psilocybin

To aid in recovery,

All of my life

Would continue

To be buried

Under all consuming

Suicidal ideation, addiction & peacelessness.

02/06/23

One score and fourteen

Years undiagnosed.

My ADHD, unseen.

But trust me – it shows.

Into pillow, I screamed

As a teen.

Everyone knows

The right way

But me.

So aware

From barely

Hidden glares

Of the social

Consequences

Of acting

‘Like me’.

But to also know

It’s happening unfairly.

So, a mask and isolation

Are my defences.

Then, at university

Self medicating

Became ingrained

Tendency.

Mary Jane,

Alcohol and codependency;

To defer my pain.

Somehow

A hyper focus

Earns me a crisp suit.

So work

becomes the locus

Of my brain’s dispute

Between

High and low

And my true self

Demeaned.

Then, a higher

Power within

Salvages me from fire

Another crash.

‘Never again’, I vow

Will I tailspin.

My own life’s agency

Has to be now.

The doctor, remarkably,

Tuned in

And medicated.

A state

I’ve bloomed in!

Actually writing

Albeit, belated.

All because

Of the medic’s empathy

In respect of

My mind’s circuitry.

05.06.2023