Saturday, February 19, 2011


THE FIRST ARCHIVES- A poetic journey into and through adolescence

“YOU LIED TO ME!” I screamed. (People lie, but not to me.. .) “Admit it, you liar! You did.”

I knew I couldn’t let this one slide; I put my ambitions on hold for him (like I was getting any younger). It hurts, no, it makes me mad. I’m such an idiot. “I’m such an idiot!” I screamed it so loud in my head that the next thing I heard was complete and utter silence. “I’m an idiot and you are a fucking liar” I whispered gently into his ear as he continued dreaming inhaling and exhaling in his sleep. I wiped my tears and sunk my head into the pillow which smelled of fresh fabric softener. I began to dream too, but my dreams were sour.

That night I had cooked us dinner and you showed up late, “delicious” you exclaimed. Your eyes reflected the flickering of the candlelight… In silence I began to think how lucky I was, every cell in my body was soaked in gratitude at the sight of you in our almost cluttered apartment enjoying the dinner I prepared. You munched away in pure delight.

Cleaning up, after dinner you resided to our chamber and spoke on the phone. You seemed relaxed and comfortable. I knew it was because you were so full, almost too full I thought cheerily as a smile crept upon my face. “I had a wonderful dinner” my imagination heard you say.

The table cleared, candles blown out, doors locked, dishes washed up… going through the virtual checklist, I made sure we could move on to the more anticipated slice of the evening.

My head filled with mischievous thoughts I crept into our bedroom and there you were, on our bed, fast asleep. Each and every lively thought deflated. I took off your socks, unbuttoned your shirt etc… folded your trousers. Folding your shirt I noticed a gravy stain, a murky brown colour. I smelt it. The scent was faded but it was chicken gravy.

A new set of thoughts inflated almost all at once… all of them questions. We are vegetarians, why would you have a chicken gravy stain on your shirt? We had lunch together this afternoon…Why do you insist on having a password to your phone?

“YOU LIED TO ME!” I started. “Admit it, you liar! You did.” “I’m such an idiot”… “I’m an idiot and you are a fucking liar”… All this I said to you in your sleep. Why didn’t you kiss me when you came in today? Why didn’t you kiss me yesterday? Why do talk so much on the phone?

Why does my imagination hear you say the things you say? Why is it that I’ve seen this gravy stain before? Why is it that I lived this scene a yesterday-ago? Why do I always forget my lines but seem to remember them just in time?

When did you stop loving me? And when did I become a celibate whore?

The diamond on my ring blinds me like before.

The things I own and the time I’ve spent on creating this set I call home, allows me to ignore it all while I believe once again that indeed, you are the man that I adore.

I suppose one extra shirt added to the laundry pile won’t hurt.

Tomorrow, the stain will disappear, the shirt will be clean and I will be happy, but then, you will wear this very shirt again and it will have to be cleaned again.

There will always be dinner at the table and laundry to do.

- This, I have no idea where it came from but I remember waking up on the school bus on the way home and just writing. I remember reading it a few days later and just being a little startled at how much sense it did make. I almost tore this page out of my little green book, it still has a tear at the corner of the page, and luckily I read it once over. I always remembered this piece though; I think it was one of my favourites because it was so random yet coherent.