going to post this before i forget everything

• got to osheaga, saw that the ground in front of the stage is entirely tiny stones and mud, didn't like that
• got there right as manchester orchestra started, stood a couple rows from the front but very far to the right side of the stage, enjoyed their performance thoroughly but had to break my attention away momentarily so i could apply sunscreen because it was fucking sunny. highlights of them were shake it out, april fool and everything to nothing. andy hull is so fucking talented.
• found a shady spot and had watermelon flavoured iced tea. didn't like sitting in rocks. starting to dislike venue entirely.
• back to same stage for tokyo police club. lead dude got a haircut, doesn't look as cute. they were very good. a giant hose was circulating the stages, so we got soaked. your english is good, tesselate, and wait up were my favourites. we were a couple rows back from front and center.
• took a massively long break sitting in a new found grassy-ish location, listened to hey rosetta!, john butler (he played ocean!!!), then sam roberts. grassy spot was in the shade, and it sort of dipped down a bit from the level ground, so we took to calling it 'the pit'.
• stood back up, went to watch lupe fiasco, then realized the death from above stage was right beside, and was starting to fill up even though they weren't playing for another hour, but we went over anyway to claim a good spot, and watched lupe from there. we were a couple rows from the front, but i was determined to get closer.
• death from above starts, i'm second from the front, dead center, someone moves, i get right up against the guardrail and have the time of my fucking life being pushed around and screaming every word. i left with a huge bruise my my hip, my shirt almost ripped, disgustingly muddy shoes, and dark grey marks on the front of my shorts from the metal rail. so worth it. they fucked up a lot but it honestly didn't matter, everyone was just way too excited to care. black history month was so good, and so was romantic rights.
• booked it over to ratatat, along with everyone else who attended dfa, and somehow miraculously made it to the front row in no time. some massive fat dude started pushing through so we just followed him. this was probably the best set of the night. the stage was smaller and they were so tight. 40 minute dance party.
• back to the main stage for elvis costello, decided we didn't care that much, met a few torontonian guys, they said fucked up was playing, we decided to go. stayed for ten minutes, damien crowd surfed and everyone laughed, i pretended to mosh, ashley and heidi (and probably a few others) laughed. saw flashing lights and heard pulsating beats from the stage over. we were intrigued....
• went to fucking bassnectar and legitimately had a good time. we jokingly danced and fist pumped but then realized it was actually fun, so we went deeper into the crowd and laughed our heads off at all the serious fans and sweated a whole bunch.
• back to elvis, didn't care, went home

amazing day, tomorrow will be just as good

i miss you already

my heart has grown wings and is fluttering out of my chest cavity

wanting something bigger and better than the body it resides in

i'm trying to tie a string around it and hold it close

but i can't keep it steady

i'm working to construct sturdy organs

ones that don't leave or drift or flutter away in their own beautiful ways

it's not working as planned, the wood is getting drenched

becoming limp and bending where it shouldn't bend

but through building this i'm learning something

that maybe it's okay to let your heart leave your body

maybe we have to let go of things for certain reasons

to remember why we have them in the first place

and to learn that we can live without them for a little bit

because when they come back

they return with purpose and wisdom

and more room to hold onto the things i wish to keep inside

since they let go of everything i don't care for on their way out

---

i was looking through my drafts and found this, i have a few things saved in there that i have pulled from longer poems that i have fallen in love with and i thought this was one of them, but it turns out that i wrote it... i'm surprised but proud of myself nonetheless

an endless wait on a clock with broken hands

my stomach is twisted into a constant knot and i can't untie it

i'm tired and i'm achey and my mind is a messy place to be

stuck inside with nothing to write about besides missing you

it gets redundant after awhile, even i know that

some days are harder than others, this is one of them

nothing makes me feel more at ease than making a cup of tea, listening to tom waits, typing things i've scribbled down, remembering everything, and feeling so lucky

last time we went swimming

the sea stood up and hugged you

as though you were responsible

for keeping it blue.

there's a fine line between wanting someone so badly you feel quite close to bursting, and bursting so badly the person you want can't help but see your debris and hurry to help any survivors

sometimes i get in these moods

there are a million others just like us, just as happy and content and lingering in bed when we should be socializing and smiling and laughing down the stairs but none of that matters, not one bit, when we have this bed and we have our lips that keep finding each other and our bare legs intertwined and our hands learning each other still after all this time, still figuring out new ways to make the other gasp or shiver or giggle while sneaking fingertips under shirt hems, completely immune to everything else past this bed, we're the castle and the floor is the moat, and all those millions of others happily in their own beds, in their own castles, bridges drawn up, sharing their own kind of love and their own kind of whatever they choose to be and enjoy, none of that matters at all because my fingers are snaking up your backbone and yours are trailing down my leg and not a single knight in any far away kingdom could pull me away from this

you took me and you kissed me like it was the first day we met, like it was the first time you had felt the urge to take my head in your hands and just fucking kiss me, and i felt it, and i fell for you, i fell the first time and i fell this time too, tripping over my feet again, just like i always do, clumsily running down that hill, falling, falling, falling, falling for you all over, like i do everyday, every single day, more and more, because i just can't help but be so recklessly in love with you, i really can't

maybe i talk too much. maybe that's when i'm supposed to kiss you.

just let me live between your eyelids

while you drift in and out of sleep

so i can be with you

even when your eyes are closed

and when your world is dark

i'll be a little light

left on while you dream

and when you wake up

you can be my little light

always guiding me home

and back into bed

goddamn, how do you always know? continue to surprise me, i'll never tire of your promises

i want to trainwreck into you, destroy your rib cage and set fire to your soft tissue then kiss it all better. break your arms so they fit better around me, cut your hair, call you beautiful, tell you that i am ruined without you, tell you my railroads turn to rubble once you leave. always have. derail me, let me be the biggest disaster your love has ever seen and i will put all the pieces back together better than before

nothing has ever felt so bizarre. that fucking mat, stuck under the front door, only moving when pushed with extreme force, felt like more of a bother than usual. that boy in your bed, greeting me with a pleasant "what the fuck?", your half-naked bodies glistening with sweat, disgusting me. that bong on the kitchen table, probably left with remnants of last night, causing the room to leave a dingy lingering smell behind, long after the music ended and your lips touched and everyone else went home. that bedroom door, that i've come to fear opening, leading to that bedroom, that fucking bedroom, where i've learned a lot and made a lot of mistakes and fucked up and fucked and hated and loved and lived because i ended up stuck there for reasons i don't care to think about, that fucking bedroom now filled with half-empty beer cans and dirty tissues and messy blankets and messier piles of dirty clothes, all things with someone else's name tag on them, because i don't live here anymore. we got a new mat in the bathroom. it smelled musty in there. i tried to quietly leave but realized i didn't care anymore and i slammed the door, hoping you'd wake up with a jolt and feel a sting of anger towards me, and maybe guilt, but probably not. the walk down the hallway felt hot and crowded. the elevator ride down 7 flights felt unsettling and constricting. i stepped out to breathe and realized i didn't have anywhere to go. i started to cry. not because i was sad. i was so angry. upset. disappointed. confused. why did this happen? i hate everything you stand for now. everything.

i don't know how this started or where i was going but it's nice to get things out once in awhile.

my porcelain skin matches these cold feelings and winter blizzards fogging up what's in front of me

that constant yearning

for another almost-moment

at the end of a bedframe

anything to shake

the dust from my

worried mind

it's really nothing

new

your eyelids are quivering

you're half asleep

the sun streams

through your window

the same way it

always does

leaving streaks of gold

in our hair

i watch a small feather

flutter on your arm

every time you exhale

before i quietly blow it

away into the mess of

blankets

i run my hand up and

down your back, following

the curve of your spine

and letting my fingers

dance over your shoulderblades

"wake up"

you rustle then open an eye

clumsily roll over to my side

and kiss my cheek, then

proceed to fall asleep

again instantly

i don't care

it is sunday morning

and i am still tired and

you are beside me and i

have never felt so safe

and at home

thank you

i've never let my tears roll past my own cheeks

i'll wipe them away before anyone catches them

but i let them fall further than i'm used to last night

they collected and dampened your shirt

and i know you tell me not to say sorry

but i feel like a burden sometimes

a millstone tangled around your sleepy body

letting go limb by limb eventually

but only when you say everything's okay

and only when i finally believe you

so i can drift to sleep with hopeful thoughts

instead of the heavy loads of cargo

weighing down my mind

secrets don't make friends

everyone's been smoothing it

down but i took the initiative

to peel back the chipped paint and

let that stark white wall beneath

stick out ugly and true

because it needed to be freed

because everything needs

breathing room sometimes

even you

even me

why does everything make me feel sad late at night?

my teeth are gritted and my hands are raw but you're probably used to me like that, romanticizing of distant places hoping i can pull both of us into them instead of sitting and waiting for something bigger and better in this reality. my jaw is getting sore. i'm running out of skin to peel back from my fingertips. everything is tender and open and cold and it all hurts so much. i want to throw my cold into your heat and watch the fire rise and engulf us whole because i'm getting tired of waiting for something bigger and better and i'm starting to believe this is it. prove to me it isn't.

what they don't tell you is that the old little man who sold the magical beans to jack jumped off of the nearest suspension bridge once he found out how much gold had come from it. "all that glitters isnt gold because you are useless", his wife had told him. and he agreed. and he didnt try and swim. and he smiled a little at how warm it was, surprisingly, this late in the year.

honesty 101: i know i don't need you because you only bring me down but everything is so different now and it hit me today how much a year can change things and it just really sucks.

"i do not exist", we faithfully insist,

while watching sink the heavy ship with everything we knew.

and if ever you come near, i'll hold up high a mirror.

lord, i could never show you anything as beautiful as you.

plucking feathers from pillowcases

watching them start out thin

then spread out wide and free

i'd like nothing more than

to be like a feather contained

only under you

while you drape my face with kisses

and i envelop your body with fingertips

instead of digging into these pillows

watching the seconds tick past

with a heap of flimsy plume to my right

and a burning craving for you

in the left of my chest cavity

then what is emptiness for?

to

fill,

fill.

let me have this memory. please, let me have just this one. please.

i'm sorry for lingering but i just never wanted you to let go of me

you're the definition of what i need and i'm holding on tight

sometimes i realize how in love i am and i just can't help myself

like the sailboat on the chain around your neck

you follow a path on my skin

and there's nothing i want more

than your fingers drifting through my current

it's almost enough, but not quite

wouldn't it be nice to try and earn wings?

please don't be technology

so i can turn up your love

like some cold machine

don't feed me scraps from your bed

and i won't be the stray coming back

just to be fed

don't be waves

come to steal my fate, marine

just pretend

that you want me

and be my bait

don't be that note i can't hold

don't be that joke that i told

and told

'til it got old

don't be that hand around my throat

so i can't breathe

you say you're my friend

but why won't you be my family?

well, if you breed

just don't tell me

be my bait

be my serene

tell me you know what i mean

you've set on me but you are not the sun

and you will not listen

it's not just about the love that i have

it's about the amount of it

how much of it i can hold in my hands

how much of it i can throw into your face

how much of it i can let drip off my skin and into your pores

how much of it i can whisper in your ear

how much of it i can scratch into your back

how much of it i can carry on my shoulders

until i grow too weary to move on

from the weight of the heart that beats for you

brush the dirt from my fingertips and take my hand. we're not always at our best but i know we're always trying to make it right, to keep it right. we may be particles of dust in this endless atmosphere but we're capable of so much more than we think we are.

love everyone, every leaf, every brave light

bury yourself in words.

make time for important people.

be brave and kind.

take more risks.

fill your cracks with patience.

spend quiet moments in thought.

collect stories.

keep occupied.

take note of small details.

allow yourself to fall into things.

care undeniably about things.

it means everything to me

to be doing nothing with you