Sometimes I dreamt about taking a knife to school and killing everyone

To hear something other than the chalkboard silence

They noticed my grades were slipping when I needed glasses

Not when I left pieces of myself

In the second floor bathroom

Sometimes I hear their voices in the stillness of the blade on the obvious places

I want to dream about something other than

Someone else

Slipping in

Slipping out

For silence that never came from me

But from

The obvious


If I were to be cured,

I can only wonder if my personality would be

cured as well.


I disgust myself,

To think that all I am

Is this disease

That could someday evaporate

Like my happiness has for the past four years.


And I wonder,

Would I know happiness to find it?

Would I know the words to say,

In place of my melodic melancholy.


I don’t know.

I simply won’t know

For a very



As I wait,

                To be cured,

                                Of a disease that swallows life like air,

Perhaps when they find the cure,

I will be dead already.

Slam Sunday: We are More by Shane Koyczan


We are cultures strung together and then woven like a tapestry,

The design is what makes us more than the sum totals of our history, 

We are an experiment going right for a change.


Shane’s Website:

Shane’s Twitter:

(Note: I know that the fourth of July was recent, but I’m Canadian so here’s to Canada day)

Hymns for the Bastards: Two.


He claimed to be a fan of horror

But he clearly hadn’t watched enough films to know that

If you create a monster

Don’t be surprised

If it turns around



I’m ready for my close-up now, baby.

Slathered in makeup so thick you could cut me with a knife and find no soul underneath.

I’ve forgotten who the mask is,

Me, you or the camera.

Fuck you (gently): Unrequited Three

Some people start their poems with

“baby won’tcha look my way”

But you’re already looking my way

I just don’t know how to meet your eyes.


Baby don’t fall for me

I’ll break you where it doesn’t heal.


(and I could be reading into this but sometimes literacy is a virtue)

(Do you feel me inside you yet

because I see myself in your eyes)


You make me warm,

Maybe that’s enough.

I’m going to keep it this way

Shove it down into my heart

(and maybe a little lower)

Shove it down far enough that you won’t find it

(secretly hoping you’ll look)


And if I break you break too

Because you look at me like you can’t afford to lose me

You can’t afford to lose me

But you can’t afford to love me

It never works out for everyone

It never works out for anyone

Slam Sunday: Waiting by Thadra Sheridan

So if I just crumple to the floor in tears can we bypass this breakfast bullshit so I can get that table their fricking water?

I adore this poem. It reminds me of how much I don’t miss my time in the service industry.

Thadra’s website:

Thadra’s Twitter:


Fuck You: Unrequited Two

I told them all

Boy don’t fall for me because I’ll break you where it doesn’t heal

You reflect what you sow

And karma is a cat that claws at me while it digs into my lap

I’ll never tell you how much I want you there

I’d die first.


It’s much easier to blame you

Because boys only say those things when they want to fuck me

But baby you’re a man I guess

And mine might be one eventually

It doesn’t stop me

From wanting to be something that you’d want

So you’ll say those things

Because you’ll want to




My first love was unrequited

I’ve learned that most of them should be


If I fall onto your floor

Splatter on the ground

Will you lick me up between the cracks

Take me tomorrow and I won’t tell a soul

I know I’m already between your chest

I want to be between your legs

I think I’ve felt you here before

Before I knew you were there.


Fuck you for being much too late