My story on Wattpad

Hey guys,

Check out my story on Wattpad, just joined and having fun writing. Are you a member? Let me know what you think about this social media platform?

So far I am just experiencing with the writer in me and the stories, but I found there is actually a poetry section. Who knew?

I will be taking a summer break, be back in September.

Enjoy your summer.

Follow me on Instagram for my story and adventure in real life as I explore Greece.

 

Take care of your heart and soul. They are precious.

 

Much love,

Chrissy xx

Click on link below:

http://my.w.tt/UiNb/bwrt2pGhZE

In the bones

Most times I try to hide it under my grief

but when I think of how eleven years pass

and how scientifically the skin and body

becomes all bones and maggots, this

freaks the fuck out of me. I think

of how his skin once touched mine and

how his love made me feel completely

human. Most days, I struggle to get

out of bed and feed my medical

condition. I hate the daylight

it sucks up my dreams. I hate the night

time, it eats up my worries. I hate

locks, they control me. I know how

my mind works under this umbrella,

it takes hold of all my bones

and caresses them while I’m alive.

You are not scared of death

he had told me, while lying there

dying from a freaky accident

that he should have never

even had. It was my fault,

I wanted him to get me

a burger and fries at eleven at night

on a slippery Montreal night

and the police officer said

all the things you don’t want

to hear, while waiting for

your husband and the food

and the love he will bring.

Death has holes.

The funeral was a blur

as are the memories now

and the sound of his voice

which I have long

forgotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night Walkers

I am waiting outside for my lift

It’s only 9:25

on a Saturday night

and I could get drunk

tonight. October feels like August,

and I let my mind go to that place

I want to forget.

 

There was a boy

I kissed at a party once.

I was such a typical bad girl

the kind that never regrets.

Kisses and doesn’t tell.

 

His name was D.

He died a year later

and I blamed myself

for letting him

touch me

when I shouldn’t have

been so drunk.

My brother found us

half-naked

booze on our breath

lips swollen.

I felt like an actress

I ran to the bathroom

and adjusted my panties

my bra was off

and my jean zipper was stuck.

I was on the dark side now.

I have tried to forget

but dead people haunt me.

He wanted me for years.

I just wanted him that one night.

 

Brothers aren’t supposed

to see their sisters

like that.

 

It’s not a mistake

if you let it happen

and other cliches

I told myself

to not go to the funeral.

 

I prefer cemeteries

to confess my sins.

A Girl’s Story

She knows without a doubt
he can write
pick up the shattered pieces
of her heart
leave it in mid-flight
as all the parts of herself
others love
she hates.
Then her mirror reflects
her various misplaced fates.
Heavy snow
bears upon her
tree lights
dismiss her dreams.
Her head is messed up
the way he cradles her in bed
she continues to sing
nursery rhymes
no one is too old to hear
she has an audience for her worded tears
as Christmas nears.
At Indigo, she waited for the gift-wrapping

moka avec caramel salé?
Non, merci.
Carte spéciale?
Non merci.

Caffe latte and Ryan Adams
at the cash.
Should she give Starbucks more money than 10.00 for 2 coffees?
Should she? Shouldn’t she questions
damned on a a one way street.
Thinks about him removing her clothes
when ugly sweater parties await,
but in the middle of it all
right after her midnight date
and all the alcohol takes flight
she breaks all her promises
gives sin her best shot.
She wants a broken heart
no matter how jolly happy souls part.
Staring at her eggnog
she imagined tolls
midnight strolls
and there she is on the screen
with a book in her hands
naked on his bed
while his eyes
travel all along her legs.

IMG_7514.PNG

Your version

I think your version is my favorite love poem I’ve read. I think you captured the moment far better than I ever could. I let my tears show me the way, but then the song Take Me To Church plays and I get trapped in my mind. I want to give you all of me on a silver tray and ask you to be gentle and tear away at me. I think you are a true gent from a time long gone and a lost generation. It’s not in the way you held my jacket, or the way your eyes slid up and down my body, but the way you held it in that drew me in. I can’t do justice to any of it through a poem, or a story, but I will try. I think that attraction exists to pour out the demons to one another; the dark, the light, the in-between blurry parts. I could be playful, silly, spontaneous, strong, and

you may think you have me pegged me, and that’s when

you haven’t

but it’s weird how every day I wake up and I could feel differently, except not really for you.

I sleep and wake to you.

I turn the sheets inside out for you.

I think you can meet me half/way or all/the/way or no/way; I think you have me confused with someone else, someone who you’ve met, but mostly I think you’re just as shocked as I am that we are actually kind of normal in a place where that rarely exists.

rope

I don’t know how to do much on the computer

I try to change things up 

but waste my time in traps

detour life in enclosed cars

drive with hands in the air

blasting music until I get annoying

Montreal weather unpredictable

and overbearing

like love and lust combined in sex

and people stare

at grocery lines like I’m some kind of stranger

then they know I’m that girl

they ask me about my book, my tragedies, my comedies, my romances, 

do I ask? 

NO, I really don’t care

to lower the music

and suddenly he is next to me scrolling while he 

waits

while I hold my book

and he stares like I’m from another time 

( yes, I definitely am )

making my daughter recite Maya

my son is like me so I know there is still hope

but you,

you make me wonder 

about all the times I held onto that rope

instead of letting it go.

 

A night with Broods

Phones are destroying lives
as we search for our beehives
swarming around in our heads
lying awake in our beds.
Kissing and flooding the room with passion
decades of heated touches
naked skin sparks new fashion
coming out of bath with flashes
of words and flowing pens
creating envious enemies
jealous bitches watching behind a camera lens
ready to be any man’s cock tease.

I’ll have no part of it
lay me down on a comforter
with a perfect fit
for the distant amorous lover
who kisses my lips with words and song
talks about nothing important at all
and it may be all wrong
but it’s way too late for my deep fall.

A duet of poetry
an exchange of wanting souls
now watch how fast I flee
listening to Broods and how she gets me.

Never ready for anything so pure
I’m a hopeless romantic fool, that’s for sure.

Do not wake me up now
with texts of fiction
I need to write my know-how
Therein lies the friction.

I woke up

drowning in your words

choking on every comma

pause, and period. I write

purely from where I see 

you. I cannot write half-

truths, or lies. You push

me now and I am up against

a wall.

Two lips waiting for your

next move

when I see how your eyes

turn away from mine

while I stare into them

to lose my own sight. 

I need you to start all over again

to begin the begin

because when I think I can do it

I feel myself dive

into the ocean

forgetting how to swim

among the sharks

ready to pounce. 

At the end of the story

it feels like the beginning. 

I think I know

what all the fuss is about
my red berry lipstick
electric blue eye-shadow
orgasm blush
wavy hair
Lana Del Ray singing
I got a burning desire for you baby
and there I am with my tight blue jeans
white heeled shoes
strapless emerald green silky top
tiny loop earrings
one topaz ring from Santorini
purchased in 1998 from a gypsy
who told me I would meet you
and a thin silver charm bracelet
and there you are
pullling up in your 1985 Porsche
with your l o n g curly hair
and crystal blue eyes
just back from Greece
golden sun-kissed skin
plain white t-shirt
light blue jeans
your eyes alone
tempting me to jump in front of the steering w h e e l
and crash into a ditch
anything
to stop this moment
this hunger
l o n g i n g
taking over my mind and body.

You are the one I compare all others to
and have left me in this mess.

Second Opinion

Pen and paper
makes all clear
in the darkness
I see better
I feel more
suffocate less.

I think you know what I mean.

Way before I speak, you know.
I say I want you to stop
because you are driving me crazy
restless tonight
rainbows do not do the trick
endless diaries of incoherent sentences
burning behind the bushes.

Do you smell the ashes?
Cigarette butts and empty wine bottles
nothing is the same
except how I feel about you.