169

the unfortunate luck of being unlucky
in both what you control and what you can’t
I wonder which is harder to accept

I’ve been told a lot of my life that
luck pulses out of my fingertips
a magnetic field of good fortune
even as a child, I grew
believing my luck to be so

nature versus nurture
what if it was only
the belief in being positive
that made me this way?

what if the magic of being lucky
is in believing it exists at all?

168

backseat driver
we cruise through life and think that we are responsible 
for everything that happens
for all the doors we don’t open
for all the windows we close

sometimes I feel so much for the way things were
a sense of loneliness that only I seem to recall
I listen to old songs
I watch the same movies, trying
to hold onto something I can’t touch

time passes
whether we acknowledge it or not
and all we can do is keep driving

166

spaghetti strap-sized scolding
girls used to get sent home for
their sunburnt shoulders

why would we make it so easy to ogle
why would we make it so worth looking at

how often were we taught that
someone else’s wandering gaze
was our fault



164

space in your day
is carved from within you
woven into how you carry the weight
of every single day and the potential it possesses
because there really is no such thing
as the right time to do something
for there is only time, and
what we choose to do or not do with it

163

you always think that these
monumental occasions will weigh on you
this powerful compound of all your hard work
bringing you closer to this idealistic sense of self

the truth is that sometimes it comes and goes
in the middle of the night
and you don’t realize its there until
you’re sitting on your bed
realizing just how far you’ve come from the start
and that moment you once dreamt of
imagined it in the palm of your tiny hands
all those years ago
is here, right now

161

the strangest routines are now commonplace
my favourite snacks, delivered to door
no one comes to visit
new voices introduced through headphones
waving goodbye to the computer screen

how has time lapsed like
the world’s fastest stopwatch
you’d swear it was rigged
you’d swear this is ordinary

157

some nights when the cold wind calms
the cars stop honking
people kiss goodbye
I imagine all the ways 
my dreams are just too full
aspirations just out of reach

maybe this wasn’t meant for me
perhaps I wasn’t cut from this cloth
the wheels screech
my mind goes silent

I wonder why it is
we stop when every light is green