Her White Blank Page

watching you sing

into a hairbrush

to Aerosmith

like

it wasn't a comb at all,

like

you were standing on a stage

and the band

was merely a glimmer

White walls, white chairs, white linens

White walls, white chairs, white linens

I saw less white before I was crazy.

I love you in white, I love you in white

Trust me baby, I still see your colours

White walls, white chairs, white linens

I stare at her blankly, bleakly, colourless

stronger than I am

more than able.

But I can’t stop picking fights

with any man who looks at you -

however unnecessary.

I realize

that I’m really protecting myself

and that you 

are the warrior

and that you 

are more than able.

I need to trust in your strength

because you don’t need a protector

at all.

I am not an animal.

protecting each other from the heat that would surely have been us

the sweat, the pulse of our bodies, intertwined and trembling

the vulnerability that comes with knowing each other's pleasure.

For too long we tried desperately

to mitigate the damage,

you and I (a forest fire) encroaching on a tiny village of restraint.

Slow burning (at first), but burning steadily still,

and moving inward

until we had burned that village down and began dancing

in the flames.

Your body,

I always anticipate an ending

It’s my nature to prepare for a fallout.

But, if this ends...

I know that you’ll always be the girl

Sitting across from me

At a dive bar in downtown Toronto

Looking at me the way that you do -

The softness, the rebellion

All of the beautiful contradictions

That are wrapped up in you.

A look that would send me diving in after you,

A look that I didn’t know I had been yearning for.

You’ll always be the girl,

Porcelain skin, scarlet hair,

Thin lips that curl into a half-smile...

Sitting across from me at a bar

Looking at me, sipping her rye.

If this ends...

I know that I’ll still see you, seeing me

If this ends...

I know that I’ll keep looking for you

I have never enjoyed sweet drinks

It’s always, “Liquor and bitters, please”

I never considered myself to be particularly sweet, either

It never went down well, I preferred the burn of whiskey

Rather than being burned.

But, I’m sweet on you - oh, 

I’m sweetest with you.

[]

Once I had you, 

The night I first tried you -

Tasted you.

The night I let myself want you...

I found myself appreciating the sweeter things.

Maybe it’s you, your sweetness

That disarms me

That sweetens me.

If I never find the opportunity - 

or the words.

If I never tell you in the dark

when we’re alone...

As I have seen it, 

as I have seen it...

If I never tell you in an outlandish way, indiscreetly

As I so desperately wish 

that I could.

If I never tell you 

that I love you -

I’ll wish that I had. 

But I’ll know

that, for whatever reason,

The women I’ve touched. The women who’ve touched me. The women whose bodies are now so far from mine. The bodies I grasped, pulled inward, knew intimately. The bodies I drew warmth from.

I remember these bodies vividly. I see flashes of their hips, their thighs, their belly buttons. It all happens at once. All of it. 

It’s us - when we were us.

It seems so drastic, to shift from exchanging breath to exchanging glances. When did we stop breathing into each other?

I knew that the marks I left on your skin wouldn’t last. But I can’t help but see you without clothing or inhibition. Maybe that’s why you avoid me. Because your skin still stretches too thin. 

It looks like I’m so stable. People keep telling me how “stable” I am. How I “have everything figured out” (i.e. I have a Toronto apartment, I’m at a prestigious law school, I have a loving partner and a fucking cute chihuahua-pug mix named Dexter). 

But I’m so, so far from stable. My mental health is a total crapshoot. I can’t sleep. I’ve been doubling my meds. 

I’m miserable. I’m so miserable. Why the fuck am I so miserable?