flewellyn road

i knew i would end up back here sometime.

sunflower decal dishes and blood orange walls
uranium glass and my gramma's late 80s windbreaker
one that thrift store kids would kill for.
the christmas tree is down for the first time in years.
i finally bought myself a copy of one of my favorite albums
but i'm not sure where my record player is
it's not at my dad's;
i spent motzei shabbos looking for it.

maybe it's gone.
maybe i'll ask around.
maybe it's at the bottom of the closet in miles' house.
chances are, though, i left it somewhere at lacombe.

i moved out of there with five minutes' warning.
really giving a new meaning to 'living on the run.'
two years ago i thought by now
i wouldn't be living out of a backpack anymore.

-

i knew i would end up back here sometime
though i was certain i would be living in the little house
taking time away from the city to focus on me
and writing songs.

i had dreams of myself as some wide-eyed writer
like troll toftenes, steven christian or dan cambell
but without the skill, focus, or even drive these days
i'm damned to be an amateur

nepean street

why i gave so much power to a polaroid, it's beyond me

these tired thoughts wont let me rest
this time last year, i had a home
now i'm trying to sleep on the left
i'm getting used to being alone

it's finally weird to think about the place on nepean street
not sad. strange.

i can't put this sick sentimentality behind me
so i'm watching that colorful movie a little more sparingly
last time around i was too fucking easy
it made sense at the time when you told me

that we made sense!

a letter to myself

to a better me,

the leaves are falling.

yellow and orange surround me as i walk up and down the main streets. i wish you could feel how at home i have felt and how much the mountain in the fog looked like the copeland album cover. it was so beautiful. the rain replenishes the air here and i can breathe once more while walking these streets. i soak my clothing walking to work and i won't touch an umbrella. i sweat through my shirt for far too long this summer not to deserve this.

these autumn days grow shorter. i find the nights more often than not lead to me desperately grasping at my blankets. i shake from the very core of my being although it barely gets below freezing this time of year. as the summer came to its finale, i had to leave my apartment. i am crashing on a a friend's couch, in between places. a close friend of mine does not call as much as they used to. i am cold on the inside.

keep warm,

H.L.