the apple trees are dying

the sunrise has grown useless and old.

my stomach churns as peppermint tea slips down my throat. oh, it aches, oh it burns…

but isn’t this what i wanted all along? a nice little life. wailing out my siren song. and i’ll chase after it endlessly. i’ll let some half-baked fantasy string me along. but i never meant to hurt you. and i don’t know where i went wrong…

because the apple trees are broken husks of what they used to be. because i am alone, as the power lines topple. but i have to laugh. because isn’t it so funny? how easy it is, to impersonate a home. but it won’t last forever.

the tips of my fingers turn black and blue. and i’m sorry. that i lost sight of you. drunk on the power, of being so strong and tall. of standing high above the clouds, so there was no one left to make me feel small.

but if i could, i’d take back everything i said. i’d burn it all. i’d find myself, between the smoke and mirrors. and you’d promise to catch me. and i’d let myself fall.

butterfly; pinned to the cutting board

you’ll cry out for help. just like you always do. and just like always… no one’s coming to save you.

you’ll rest your hopes, and dreams, on those neon-bright wings and maybe this is all one big dream. maybe you’re going to wake up, because you have to wake up, any fucking second

but you don’t. and instead, all you can feel is the knife poised against your fragile, trembling abdomen. the burning heat… the smoke starting to engulf you… and this is it, isn’t it? so go on. sing me one last beautiful, effervescent song.

but don’t bother trying, little girl. because begging for your life isn’t going to work out for anyone.

Inspired by this prompt. I never pegged myself as the “prompts” type of gal, but I guess I’ve been having trouble writing poetry that does just fall into the same themes I usually choose to write, and just really pushing myself to branch out, and sometimes prompts can be really helpful for that, just in terms of forcing me to step out of my comfort zone. I was considering writing a little note at the bottom of this about what was going through my head as I wrote this, but honestly, I’m really not sure, and I’m still processing a lot of the feelings in this poem–and I think it kinda reads better when the reader is left to interpret it however they’d like to. So yeah, I guess if this was relatable in any way for you, feel free to leave or a comment, and otherwise, I hope you enjoyed. 🙂

Lots of love,


a girl in a rom-com

trigger warning: implied suicidal ideation

oh / and everything would just be so perfect / wouldn’t it? and i would toss my hair / and bike through town / and fall in love with someone who loves me back / or some dumb shit like that / because i just wish i could be normal sometimes / is what i’m getting at / not forever / just… for a moment / just to see what it’s like / to feel okay / because it must be nice / if anyone out there ever actually feels that way / and maybe i want to die again / but i’m a girl in a rom-com / so nothing too bad ever really happens / does it? / because there’s nothing love can’t heal in an instant / and what are you talking about? / just yesterday / my friends and i went to the cute little cafe downtown / and talked about our crushes / and these milkshakes / and laughed / and i never lie awake at night / thinking about how much i hate myself / because the plot doesn’t have time for that / so just keep moving / roll out of bed / dance around your room / and come on / that’s your cue / you can stop with the act now / little girl… i know you

To provide a little context for this, about a month ago I went through this HUGE phase, where I watched, like, an obscene amount of teen rom-coms. (Obscene for me anyway, since normally I like to stick to my territory of animated Netflix shows and stay there.) (Cough cough, She-Ra.) (Cough cough, The Dragon Prince.) (Cough cough, this is a bad joke and I need to stop.)

Anyhow, although it was really fun watching these movies and shows that are super cute and feel-good… well, they also have a pretty unrealistic standard (or, unrealistic to ME anyway) of being a teenager. And that really triggered this whole kind of mid-life crisis situation for me, except rather than being a burnt out 40-year-old dad, I am literally in high school. I started to question whether this image they present of teen life in books and movies was normal–because, like, sometimes it feels like that’s truly the life other, more normal kids get to lead. One where teen years are just spent going to parties, and having cute montages of our charming protagonist holding hands with her crush, while doing dumb, risky things. I’ve never even kissed anyone before. I’ve never wanted to.

The last time I liked someone I was ten, and honestly I don’t particularly want to feel that way about anyone right now. What does it say about me, that I don’t have those experiences that society has deemed to be such a normal part of being my age? Does it mean I’m broken, somehow? Am I going to look back on this part of my life and regret not seeking out those experiences, even though I don’t really want them right now?

I know this is silly–that most of us essentially just spend our whole lives chasing after unattainable standards set by social media, film, books and just our culture in general, and that the irony of loneliness is that in any given room half of the people there probably feel the exact same way you do. But… you know. Brains can really suck sometimes, I guess.

Anyhow, this is probably one of the most teenagery posts I have written in a very long time, but oh well, I guess this is my life, and hopefully you enjoy. 🙂

Lots of love (as always),


teen rebellion, or something like that

i don’t need you. you know that? because in fact, i don’t need anyone. because you were always going leave me in the end. i’m not an idiot.

and in case you couldn’t tell, i’m a big girl now. i don’t need anybody’s help.

because big girls hate their bodies, and watch their backs in alleys. big girls don’t trust anybody but themselves.

big girls hate the government. wear fancy clothes for no reason other than that everyone else is doing it.

big girls don’t tell you about their feelings. because you don’t fucking deserve it. stay up until three in the morning, writing fake words on an empty stomach.

big girls don’t speak up. big girls implode. because i’m so fucking confused, and i don’t fucking know. big girls say yes. good girls say no.

and some days, i feel… like i’m about to disappear beneath the weight of the future, pressing its bleeding hands into my shoulders. and now i’m starting to panic…

because i don’t want to know what i’ll find out there if i take off my rose-tinted glasses.

I don’t know when I started to really get into this, but I guess I don’t really like telling people how old I am. Even though I’m actually a December birthday, and therefore almost always the youngest kid in any room of people in my grade–like, I have never in my life shared a class or had friends in my grade who were younger than I am. But for some reason, people always seem to assume I’m 2-4 years older than I am, which I guess is in part is just because I’m such an overacheiver. Throughout my entire sixth grade year, my teacher literally never managed to pick up on that I wasn’t in grade seven. During various events I’ve done, people are always surprised about my age, and I get a lot of comments about how mature I am. And although I know those people are well-meaning, sometimes it can feel like I can’t be a kid and also be passionate and professional and do a really good job. So after a while, I guess I just kind of started to feel ashamed of the fact that I am a teenager, who sometimes does teenager things. I’m not entirely comfortable talking about this online, but I think this is a good step for me. (Even though a lot of my audience is older.) And I hope this poem is a little peek into a side of my personality I don’t really show online that often, and that it was somewhat relatable to your teenager experience, whether you’re still a teenager now, or you’re an adult looking back on those years. 🙂

Lots of love,


so… i have a face!

Hey guys! So this honestly is nowhere near a big enough deal to warrant a whole post in its honour, but here I am, making one anyway, because, I don’t know. It feels somehow like a pretty huge milestone to me.

Yesterday on my Wattpad, I did a face reveal–because I’m at the point where, I don’t know, I’m tired of being ashamed or embarrased of my appearance, and the things I do online, and because this summer I’m planning on just working really hard on growing this platform and making not just more content, but different content, more quality content, maybe starting a more typical YouTube channel with vlogs and book reviews and all those things–and probably by the end of the summer starting to run this platform under my real name. This is just a first step, but it means a lot to me, and it’s taken a long year of working on myself and this site to get there. So without further ado, here is my face! (ft. terrible lighting, and very frizzy hair but oh well, at least I tried)

And of course, no face reveal would be complete without the 1am work selfie I don’t actually remember taking ft. my room

Anyhow. I guess…. that is it? Wow.

Lots of love,