think twice before you say, stargirl;
you may not be ready.
her name slurs from the lips of broken souls,
a question that tastes likes champagne in their mouths
a burning fire to warm their numb, blue fingers.

We sat on a quiet bench by the ocean, savouring the final blushes of sunshine on our faces before the sun dipped into the horizon, passing a joint back and forth in silence. When the joint burnt down to the filter, the havoc of the crowded downtown Victoria Harbour faded and I looked at the most beautiful scene in the world.

The clock strikes 8:17 as I am sitting on the cool stool at our local bar. The bartenders are busy with angry drunks who don’t want to go home. The tables are mostly empty except for old men that slowly drink their sorrows away. The news is playing on the TV in the background. Another missing child. “Stella Davis, thirteen years of age, 5ft 3 and sporting short brunette hair, last seen wearing a baby blue polo shirt and blue jeans” is what they said. The picture the reporters used for her missing person poster makes her look strikingly beautiful. She has now been missing for approximately three days.

I snapped a picture of you the other day when you weren’t looking
capturing the entirety of your face
as you lay oblivious and a victim
incarcerating the elegant flare of
your cheekbones

“Four Seasons” is a heartwarming and emotional story about two teenage girls, Flora and Rose, meet at the library and quickly become close. As the seasons change, the two go on adventures and spend time together, but as they grow closer, tensions rise and their relationship is tested.

I’m stuck here, staring over the edge
I am my freedom, that was my pledge
Why can’t I just
Jump

Holding sunburnt breath, across bow valley
i thread & braid for the first time,
yr only acres away, across bow trail
    ought i stand up from my desk? reach across chasm & confess?