SOL: Scarlet

Lit a match, burned the effigy
Devoured his ego from the
Inside out, innermost desires
Dripping down face, satiating pores
I want him in his rawest form
Ripped apart, put back together
Infused with my fingerprints
The last shaky breath from my
Lungs as I come dissolving
On his tongue
The first letter of my name
Wrapping in cursive around
His brain, driving him

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Steady As She Comes.”

SOL: Fabled

Slow dancing in a tsunami at
Midnight, bittersweet longing for
Disaster reflected in his eyes
Clench of teeth followed by atmospheric
Pressure release in each kiss
Locked limbs believing
It will never feel better than
This; the intoxicating knowledge of
Nothing left to lose
Each moment growing more savage
Riding waves of definite destruction
You open your mouth to worlds
Down below, secure in belief
Your devotion will keep you
From being deceived
Slipping off lies and wearing
The empresses’ new clothes
Body and soul, it feels much better
When you relinquish all control

3AM Thoughts // AKA “If You Can’t See It, You’re Not Ready.”

SOL: Shades of Blue

Drunk on gin, high on euphoria, eyes
Closing as ice plays cacophonous
Applause on the sides of
Your glass, your hand coming unglued
Tentatively touching forbidden neck
Leaving apologetic drips of water on
Collarbones, bleeding down skin until it hits
My chest as you hold your
Breath – somehow this moment
Means more than the rest

3AM Thoughts // AKA “With Best Intentions, Against Better Judgement.”

SOL: Sanctimonious

I slept with him and stole
His photos – he saw them reproduced and
Blamed me for
Appropriating his intellect, claimed
I had stolen his essence; scorned me for being
Devoid of ethics.
I sent him a reply months later by post
Asking him why he abhorred my actions of
Deceit when he had so adored the
Same insidiousness between sheets.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “The Hypocrisy of Men.”

SOL: Negligent

I remember her body like Corradini
Hard as stone until caressed, brought to
Life under nimble fingers, made soft, angelic
Vengeful Medusa, nimble queen
Elusive garden surrounded by
Rose-filled walls you would be
Best off not to climb, esa rosita tiene espinas
The smell she exudes is always
Tender, but even honey tastes sweet until
You feel the sting, enchanting with a smile like a
Lighthouse, shining through the darkness to
Help everyone else, never thinking to keep
Enough to save herself

3AM Thoughts // AKA “Strong Bones, Made for Storms.”

SOL: Ingenious

Tell me more of addiction
He says, picking nails at the
End of the bed as I stretch
Emitting purrs like a feline
Languidly checking my back for
Bite marks
Answering his question
Through intentional absence
As the daylight crawls and
Falls over the sandstone walls

3AM Thoughts // AKA “A Habit, A Destructive Vice, A Toll.”

SOL: Malevolence

Your depression doesn’t make you
A better artist –
You aren’t even an artist now.
You write dried up, worn out, reused metaphors to
Try and cover the regurgitated plots in your shitty prose:
He loved me and I left him,
I adored her and it was never enough.

Your fake epousing of wisdom isn’t worth the
Plane ticket you bought to another country,
Trying to douse the North American off of you like a cheap perfume.
Buying a different accent, a stranger lifestyle,
A few voyeuristic stories to tell through loose lips to tight friends.
You are a fucking fraud and it seeps from your skin
It pulls one side of your smile down like
Rotting wallpaper drops to old wooden floors.
Your mind is evil, your thoughts are despicable –
There is something growing toxic within you
Eating you alive from the inside out.
Vileness, treachery and a cunning
Set of linguistics round you out but
You are not worth the
Time or effort, and soon
He will have had enough.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “My Intrusiveness Bleeds Elusiveness.”

SOL: Glorious

My body is no longer your body
It has changed since your
Fingers last tried to delve deeper
Than my spine
My body is my body and it
Holds silver, it bleeds copper
It becomes gold when
I step from the sea
It holds rings of sterling that
Are marked like badges of
All been done to me

3AM Thoughts // AKA “i am my own.”

SOL: A Year In Review

In February of this year, I made many choices that upon creation of this blog  five years ago, I did not expect to ever occur.

This website started as a way to keep creating after I finished university. True to its mission, it has kept me busy in the five years of travel I have done since completing my degree. It has been an outlet for anger, a creative safe place and at times, a cause for argument and tension within relationships. Overall, this website has been 100% mine and though at times of depression or intense upheaval I have neglected it, I never fail to return.

In the beginning of this year I made the decision to leave a job that has allowed me to travel for the majority of a year and work remotely. While it was a bittersweet moment to leave for good, ultimately it was a mutual decision and both parties felt that I had prepped enough and passed the baton for someone else to continue. After completing my outstanding contract, I packed my things and made the permanent move to Malta.

Why Malta?

I get asked on a daily basis how I ended up in a very tiny archipelago in the Mediterranean Sea. My answer is always the same, “I came here for the sun.” It is not a lie, but I had no idea what or where Malta was until it found me through, of course, Workaway. I was looking for a remote island, I did not care where, because I wanted to be somewhere where my ex could not find me.

I feel it important to make note of the catalyst to come to Malta, not out of spite, but in order to be more transparent. As of late I have become forced to address the negative implications of a “highlight reel” lifestyle on social media that is absolutely fake and unattainable. In the pictures I posted and sent out we were smiling,constantly traveling and enjoying life. Behind closed doors it was a constant power struggle of manipulation, threats, lectures and lies. So, in saying that I wanted to be somewhere where my ex could not find me, it was a rational response to someone telling me, “I will come there and wait until you want to be with me.” The emotional and physical effects of being utterly controlled and manipulated made me want to vanish. So I did – to Malta.

In coming to Malta a year ago, I made a vow to myself that for six months, I would have nothing but fun. By my logic, it made absolute sense: trade a year of bullshit with a psychopath, earn a half-year back of sheer selfish happiness. Within the first week my Workaway host asked me, “Do you always laugh this much?” I laughed more in seven days than I had in the entire previous year combined. I spent nights praying to be free of several men in my life – and by last May, it seemed like I had finally escaped.

Malta was a beautiful escape at first. An eclectic mix of European living with Arabian architecture, it is easy to get lost in the narrow streets and blazing heat. I enjoyed my time here for seven months, until a misdiagnosis of PCOS sent me spiralling and flying back to Canada for treatment. Upon returning to Canada, I realized that I felt different in a familiar place. The health scare turned out to be nothing and I felt a weight lifted. I felt free again.

In October I returned to Malta, this time without being chased and simply by choice. Upon coming back after an absence of two months, it felt strange and once again I wondered if I had made the right decision. The damage done by previous relationships had healed and while I wanted to date, it simply felt forced. I have never liked dating websites and have steadfastly refused to touch them. I prefer to stumble into romance rather than go fishing for it.

Admittedly, I grew bitter. I was frustrated with being alone, and in turn, it was making me alienate myself. I did what my therapist had advised me to do; go out with friends, read, create, go to the gym. Immerse myself in all the things that I personally like to do and eventually something good will come from it.

So I did. I chugged along and felt a little less bitter and I worked hard. For four months I worked without break and by January I realized that, entirely against my will and without being forced, I was in love again. I don’t want to say that I had “fallen in love” because it was not sudden; instead it was simply friendship, nothing more, which slowly and naturally evolved into something chemical and unavoidable.

I have told him, many times, that if this is what love is, I understand fully what I was missing. Whereas before I was impatient, envious, full of pride, selfish and quick to point blame or act out, in loving him, I have grown into a women more and a child less.

Last February, I made a promise to myself to dedicate six months to pure selfish happiness and a full year to my own personal growth. This year, I took stock of the changes, accepted the losses, and happily moved forward.

The point of this post is not to air dirty laundry, but rather to put the past in the past and send a message to some of you who may be like me last February. To that, I can only say, keep pushing, keep working, keep trying and eventually, all the struggle makes sense. It never stops, but at the very least, it has meaning, and if your struggle has meaning you can sleep soundly at night.

Safe travels,