A Sophie Shaped Hole

27858046_10214039189069922_9020813559050580694_n(Trigger warning: Suicide & Self Harming Behaviours)

i woke up. after taking 6 sleeping pills the night before. before i knew what happened.  

I couldn’t go to sophie’s funeral. i couldn’t say goodbye the way i wanted to. I didn’t want to say goodbye at all. she lived in london. i live in canada. It’s almost been a year. it’s almost been a year since i woke up without my best friend. millions of “R.I.P’s” flooded her facebook page. i still try to message her. still want a response. and then i remember.


What just happened.

I don’t believe it

i don’t believe it

i can’t.


i am paralyzed.


now, sophie and suicide are the main things that spin around in my mind. they are connected. I try to get away. numb it. i walk for hours. i smoke cigarettes. i try to silence the screaming of my mind  by opening skin. try to see her again. try to be with her. i count out reasons to go with each pill spilled out in my shaky, sweaty hand. I don’t eat. I eat too much and make up for it. I yell. I feel my skin boil in a hot shower.


today is day 306. Some days, i can’t cry. Some days, i am a broken, leaky faucet and the tears will not stop. Some moments, i am okay. when the sun begins to shine through clouds. and the sky opens up. when the sun sets. After it rains.


It doesn’t last. It never does.

i try to picture you at peace, without pain. finally free of your demons.

i try to forget all the pain you left behind.



loss of sight



his eyes

wide and glowing green

inside something snarled

it’s voice a blend of

grinding teeth and the cracking

of knuckles




its mouth opening

rows of fangs

the blood of man or woman


swirling around

gurgling liquid crimson

like mouthwash



sore and swollen

he is easy target

hard to miss this weak thing

walking on rusty train tracks

writing the end too soon


i know how this ends –

i just forgot how it started.

lost in skin

which scar is mine?

which smile is mine?

the texture of  pain

all rough, and bumpy


i have seen the footage and you have too.

evidence of decay scratched into skin

the backward rolling eye – visionless.

ready to be dissected by scalpels and knives.


ripples of light burn as

blackness traps my eyes

starting to outgrow my own breath


jack in the box



door slammed shut

keep out sign hanging on the door knob


panic lives in her chest

winding the jack in the box

anxiety jumps with its

white clown face – screaming

pounding and pounding

stealing another 24 hours


messy bed and unwashed sheets

are left,

twisting and turning around daytime

hair falling out

unwashed face

unbrushed teeth

the rotting of woman


her knuckles start to yellow

and her heart hardens

sagging bags under eyes

droop like grandma’s skin


the dark creases of loneliness

stiffening the body

wide awake with the night

holding hands with one another

skipping over cracks in the sidewalk

nails painted black

chipped and scratched


her toes get caught in the traps

left out for squirming mice

the tight pinch of reality is just a slap across the face

the handprint screaming red over her right cheek

start at the beginning



It was

A separation

pounding at back doors

and opening mailboxes


It started like

sudden cry

I startled your eyes

with my scarred up skin

the fresh red of my only escape

my sad girl smile

Press play and i am in the hospital


laid out like a corpse

in a blue and white hospital gown

body fighting to live

The IV pumping life back into me

the stiff hospital bed

padded with thin sheeks and



I force myself up

touch my feet to the cold floor

unplug the infusion pump

grip my fingers tight around it

Try and

keep myself vertical but

my limbs give up on me

and a man in all blue

takes my arm before I fall

to the ground, guides me

forward to the washroom

And the smell itself  makes my stomach

Fold onto itself


My eyelids fluttering

open and close.


doctor after doctor after doctor

examine the attempt

The curtains are drawn

I peek out hearing

The diagnoses instead of

Patient names.

The sound of squeaking nurses

running and searching

for another drunken scream


Give me a reason. to stay alive another day

to break free of this

all of this hell

The words are

caught in my throat

I choke on them

Spiders crawling inside skin


injecting venom into my bloodstream

I wrote it down but it doesn’t mean

anything because they want me to



They fear for my safety

not knowing what freedom feels like

but then again

neither do i.

Fast Forward.

48 Hours later.


I hand you the poem

Written on the back of  a napkin.


And finally

I talk, ripping the spider

webs out of my mouth


shapeshifter (poem)



you sharpened

your words with

      a knife

dug deep into me


the bathtub,

fills with my


clogs the drain


I drown in  

 your dirty hands

your rough and

 sharp touch


you scrape off my tears

off with your

rusty   finger nails

bruising the bags

under my eyes


On destruction


you carved your initials

into my chapped lips

Stripped me down to

You’re deathly standard.