Author: alanaduffield

to the sister who made it all okay,

i remember the day you came home early in the morning
the sky was still dark with night lights lit up
i remember it was pretty.
mom and dad took a while to go back to bed and your eyes were pink
like bubble gum with a hint of red like licorice.
mom and dad didn’t know i was awake because
they didn’t want me to get a sweet tooth when i became sixteen like you

you didn’t leave your room for a while the next day.
maybe your stomach hurt from the sweets?
or maybe you didn’t want to be tempted to eat more?
you don’t like talking about it now though
maybe cause the cavity still hasn’t been filled?

you laugh at mom when she tells you to stop, laughy taffy maybe?
she tells you now but you say later, i know you like those but only in green apple
didn’t your tummy ache from all the candy and sugar?

i remember you drinking the sugar to the point where you didn’t understand me
you stumbled over your feet like they were blocks of sticky taffy
stumbling over your words like the candy was sour
was it lemon? those always get me too.
mom said i’m not allowed to drink the sugar and neither are you but you do when
she’s not watching, i don’t tattle though.

but one day,
you went to a place with no candy, only fruits and veggies
you didn’t like it at all; nothing was sweet, only healthy foods.
they didn’t let me come in past the red line
no hugs or any affection to show you were still loved.
you didn’t stay for very long though.

when you got home though, there were no sweets in the house anymore
it’s like the dentist told you no to all sweets because the cavity in your
brain was too bad that it took a week to take out.

the candy ate the person you were
the dentist made you take away all the candy
you stopped looking in the mirror because your
smile was different in the camera.

you changed to better yourself, i didn’t get to see you as much
you left for a long time.
you’re still gone, but you haven’t had candy in a while.
just your fruits and veggies because life is like
apples and oranges just as much as it is carrots and peas

because you made it all okay.

love, your baby sister who saw it all

it wasn’t a mistake as it was just a misread story. emotions compelled more than you could handle. it was too ‘emotionally unstable’ for your approval. yet when the darkness in the night strikes you reveal the day’s thoughts so that you can be shattered and fixed all by day break.

i close my eyes wishing i saw the photograph i saw a week ago, a week ago when love meant love. a week ago when we had a conversation of the stars in the sky ten years from now. a week before the water damaged the photo; before love was lust and the stars were just spots of white out on letters.

i told you story of monsters in the lake, demons in my head, bandits in my home and beautiful liars. i told you the pain of the characters in our folktales, the ones who were supposed to get a happily ever after.

unlike fairytales, my mirror does not give me all the answers needed. you were the voice my mirror didn’t need.
everyone’s version of beauty is different just like pieces of a puzzle. different yet fitting.
our pieces were too different to fit, my mirror called me something you never could without being asked by a series of questions.

i close my eyes and i see the sparks off of the side of my car and in the next moment i see you and your eyes sparkling in the light from the almost burned out headlights. i let the thought of tomorrow drift away and focus on you and what tomorrow will look like with you.

but tomorrow doesn’t come
and neither will tomorrows, tomorrow.
because the story was cut short, the values learned from the characters is the important aspect that you may have missed.

he found the relief he’d been searching for with the guidance and compassion of her actions.
she lost herself for a while. searching at the roots of the tree she learned happiness came from the one who can see through her eyes.
she found happiness in herself.

and now all they ever were is just another folktale.

the static from the phone dances in her ears
as the two birds jump from tile to tile
never stepping on a crack to protect a mother’s back

the birds sang the greatest of songs
yet they could never slip a smile
blue bird, red bird

the blue birds heart can only be given to the golden finch but never to the red bird
yet all she wants is the blue birds song

a question yells from the static
we’re the two birds supposed to be in love
dancing on tiles, slipping a smile, singing the grandest of songs.

but the tiles will remain untouched by dancing feet, a smile will never slip and the silence will remain.
because you have your golden finch.

a long time ago someone told me eyes never lie.
it took me a long time to understand what the wise had said.
i finally got it.

i wouldn’t call you a beautiful liar or even a lake monster.
and you don’t fit the part to be a thief in my home.

you are no longer a man,
i question if you ever were or did your actions deter that thought right away.
the acts of infantility stole that title away from you.

blue, your eyes were blue; sometimes gray.
your pupils dilate at least sixty percent when you look at one you love.
that was a rare occasion
I don’t remember that last occasion
an ocean of bright blue telling me all your secrets.
you were so caught up in the fear of being vulnerable
that you didn’t realize how vulnerable you actually are.

i wanted my great perhaps to be with you.
but the greatest perhaps always involve a mystery
it left me wondering if a great perhaps was even possible.

your eyes are beautiful liars, your personality behind them is a lake monster.
your infantallity was a thief in my home.

you are just the blue burning from the night sky.

a collection of small poems and thoughts

---

before you go
set your keys on the table and hang your coat
sit down next to the fire with me
and let the silence of the room speak for us.

when i was around you the world was different
it had a glossy film around it, making it shiny and exciting
getting stuck in snow banks and dancing in the grocery during a shutdown
it is like the little girl inside me finally got to enjoy life.

but every deal you make with the shadow man comes with a price
the shadows covering my mouth at night so that nobody could hear
the repaying of debt as water filled my green eyes.

---

you called yourself a man yet you loved like a boy

---

they will tell you that you can still make cookies without sugar
but it is no longer a cookie yet a salt lick.

when he looks at her with the soft look of anger in his eyes
in those innocent hazel eyes it is like the world goes still
when you come back down from your hierarchy you finally realize
she was just the wilting flower and you were lacking oxygen.

---

he absolutely broke her heart without even stealing it first.

---

you wanted the vintage love
having your champagne attraction like Gatsby and Buchanan
scandalous lady with a selfish heart
the green light at the end of the dock helped you realize you’d forever be apart

all she wanted was the chance to play in the rain
you were supposed to be in the street
holding her head between your hands
giving her the word

and instead you stayed inside
as she went unnoticed, sitting in the rain
she told herself a good lie
the sky was no longer the only one to cry

---

october
sometimes i forget how to breathe
i forget that i am alive and well
i forget the way he made me feel driving to his house in october
i sometimes forget the speed limit on the road i always took
but i remember the roads are dry in october
i remember the smell of the air outside and the scent of the candles your mother lit

when it rains i am reminded of how you made me feel on those fall night
i am sent to wonder how you chose her over me
without you i forgot how to live for a bit of time
yet with you i wasn’t alive

but for him he would have come to me
i wouldn’t have to remember how he liked his pizza
and maybe i’d still be alive if it i chose him over you
because you chose her over me
maybe i would still love the way my hair was put up
maybe i’d still love driving in october

the leaves don’t look as exquisite as they did before i fell in love with you
i don’t think of pumpkin carving as an enjoyable moment
the line crossed at falling out of love for you
because i sadly still love october.