I Wrote This For You

by pleasefindthis

  I WROTE THIS FOR YOU

  pleasefindthis

  CENTRAL AVENUE PUBLISHING EDITION

  Copyright © 2011 Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner

  whatsoever without written permission from the author and photographer except in the case of brief

  quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This edition is published by arrangement with the author and photographer

  contact at pleasefindthis@gmail.com

  Central Avenue Publishing - www.centralavenuepublishing.com

  First electronic edition published by Central Avenue Publishing,

  a division of Central Avenue Marketing Ltd.

  I WROTE THIS FOR YOU

  ISBN 978-1-926760-56-8

  Published in Canada with international distribution.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Michelle Halket

  All Photography: Copyright © Jon Ellis

  Dear You,

  You are holding in your hands what was promised to you years ago. I’m sorry it took so long. But life, as is so often the case, is life and we forget about the promises we’ve made.

  You, however, are harder to forget.

  I know the world is crazy. I know love is not always the way it’s meant to be. I know sometimes, things hurt. But I also know that we’ll get through this. That our hearts will arrive on the other side, in one piece. That everything is beautiful, if we give it the chance to be.

  I’ve tried to write down what I saw and what you told me and I sincerely don’t think I missed anything. Let me know if I have.

  I love you. I miss you.

  Me

  THE DEDICATION LIST

  To the small.

  To the star counters.

  To the cloud watchers.

  To the inspired.

  To the birds.

  To everyone who’s ever cried.

  To everyone who’s ever tried.

  To those who pull themselves up off the floor.

  To those who can still find love in their hearts, even after everything.

  To those who paint the world each day with the colours of their feelings.

  To those who hope.

  To you.*

  *Thank you.

  SUN,

  THE LAYERS UNSEEN

  There is magic even here, in gridlock, in loneliness, in too much work, in late nights gone on too long, in shopping trolleys with broken wheels, in boredom, in tax returns, the same magic that made a man write about a princess that slept until she was kissed, long golden hair draped over a balcony and fingers pricked with needles. There is magic even here, in potholes along back-country roads, in not having the right change (you pat your pockets), arriving late and missing the last train home, the same magic that caused a woman in France to think that God spoke to her, that made another sit down at the front of a bus and refuse to move, that lead a man to think that maybe the world wasn’t flat and the moon could be walked upon by human feet. There is magic. Even here. In office cubicles.

  THE FIRST SIGN IS TAKING STRANGE PICTURES

  I have pretended to go mad in order to tell you the things I need to. I call it art. Because art is the word we give to our feelings made public. And art doesn’t worry anyone.

  THE BIBLIOGRAPHY OF STRINGS

  And you taught me what this feels like.

  And then how it feels to lose it.

  And you showed me who I wanted.

  And then who I wasn’t.

  And you ticked every box.

  And then drew a line.

  And you weren’t mine to begin with.

  And then not to end with.

  And you looked like everything I wanted.

  And then became something I hated.

  And you get thought of every day.

  And then not in a good way.

  And you let me leave.

  And then wish I’d stayed.

  And you almost killed me.

  But I didn’t die.

  THE CORNERS OF YOUR MOUTH

  And you asked why people always expected you to smile in photographs. And I told you it was because they hoped that in the future, there would be something to smile about.

  THE SHAPE OF IT

  They want me. I want you. And you want someone else. But none of us want to turn around.

  THE POINT OF CONTACT

  And then my soul saw you and it kind of went “Oh there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

  THE TIME IT TAKES TO FALL

  So if all we have is that glance in the window. If all we have is till this train stops. If all we have is till the sun comes up, till your lift picks you up. And if all we have is till the day I die.

  I’m ok with what we have.

  THE SEAT NEXT TO YOU

  When I sit near you, my hands suddenly become alien things and I don’t know where to put them or what they usually do, like this is the first time I’ve ever had hands and maybe they go in my pockets and maybe they don’t.

  THE SHIPWRECK IN MY HEAD

  Everything you do, you pay for. So if you’re going to kiss me, you’d best be prepared to bleed.

  THE PATTERN IS A SYSTEM IS A MAZE

  Of course it’s complicated. If it wasn’t, I probably wouldn’t be interested in you.

  THE MISSED APPOINTMENT

  So yes, we could kiss. I could kiss you and you could kiss me. There’s no science, plane ticket or clock stopping us. But if we kiss, it will end the world. And I’ve ended the world before. No one survived.

  Least of all me.

  THE NEW COLOUR

  And their shape and their hair and their eyes and their smell and their voice. That suddenly, these things can exist and you’re not quite sure how they existed without you knowing about them before.

  THE MOTHS DON’T DIE FOR NOTHING

  I’m sure people just kiss each other. I’m sure that sometimes you’re talking and somehow two people move closer and closer to each other and then, they just kiss. I’m sure it happens all the time. But I’m also sure that a kiss is never just a kiss.

  THE CLEARLY LABELED

  I think you’ll find you’re mistaken. My name is clearly written across the front and I recognise the scratch down the side (that happened in high school). This is my heart. You can’t just come here, and take it.

  THE DRIVE BEFORE DAWN

  I read what you leave in public spaces. The songs you reference. The quotes you quote. I know it’s about me. I can feel you thinking of me. I want to tell you that I know and admit that I feel the same. But I can’t. Not yet.

  THE WET HAIR AND EYES

  You are a drop of perfect in an imperfect world. And all I need, is a taste.

  THE SHAPE FALLS AT YOUR FEET

  Maybe it’s because you’re one of those people that believes that sometimes, the most reckless thing you can do with your heart, is not being reckless with it.

  THE EXCUSE FOR YOUR COMPANY

  I was wondering if you had a second. To talk about anything at all.

  THE LANTERN IN THE LIFEBOAT

  I am nervous. I’m afraid. But I will stand here in the white hot heat of you. I will play Russian roulette with your playlists. I will tell jokes I’m not sure you’ll find funny. I will hold on until there is no more reason to. And in the end, I will break the stars and resurrect the sun.

  THE PAINT HIDES THE BRICK

  You took all m
y words when all I wanted to do was say them.

  THE WAY GLASS BREAKS

  This is the song I only sing when you’re sleeping. These are the words I say when you can’t hear me. This is the way I look when you can’t see me. And you will never know.

  THE TRUTH IS BORN IN STRANGE PLACES

  Joan of Arc came back as a little girl in Japan, and her father told her to stop listening to her imaginary friends.

  Elvis was born again in a small village in Sudan, he died hungry, age 9, never knowing what a guitar was.

  Michelangelo was drafted into the military at age 18 in Korea, he painted his face black with shoe polish and learned to kill.

  Jackson Pollock got told to stop making a mess, somewhere in Russia.

  Hemingway, to this day, writes DVD instruction manuals somewhere in China. He’s an old man on a factory line. You wouldn’t recognise him.

  Gandhi was born to a wealthy stockbroker in New York. He never forgave the world after his father threw himself from his office window, on the 21st floor.

  And everyone, somewhere, is someone, if we only give them a chance.

  THE IMPORTANT THINGS HUMANS DO

  Go to work. Eat. Dream. Try to sleep. Think of you.

  Count the stars. Wake up. Think of you.

  Be here. Listen to what they’re saying. Think of you.

  Cook. Read. Watch TV. Think of you.

  Pay attention. I’m thinking of you.

  MOON,

  THE CHILDREN OF TIME

  January has issues with her mother, February is always talking about things he wants to do while March does them, April eats sweets and May pays for them, June is the oldest but not the wisest and July always has an opinion on everything. August never stops trying do the right thing, even if he doesn’t always know what that is. September once saw something so sad, she never stopped crying. October holds the lift for anyone, vice-presidents and street-sweepers alike (for his memory, not for theirs) and November makes fun of him for this. December is tired but always hopeful. He has never once stopped believing.

  Monday’s obviously a bastard, quite literally as Dad can’t remember what or who he was doing. Tuesday’s temperamental but ok as long as you stay on her good side. Wednesday doesn’t say much and Thursday sometimes hums just to break the silence. They’re in love. Friday’s always wasted and she and Saturday hold each other tightly until their delirium fades.

  But Sunday, Sunday knows she’s the end. But she closes her eyes, and she pretends with all the strength in her tiny heart that really, she’s the dawn.

  THE GHOST TRAIN

  And if you can’t say yes, answer anyway. Because I’d rather live with the answer than die with the question.

  THE DAY TOMORROW CAME

  I know you’re busy doing all the things you always planned to do but remember, today is also the day that you kiss me.

  THE TRAIN OF LIES

  I say that I won’t touch you.

  But my fingers are liars.

  I tell you how I won’t hold you.

  But my arms are going to hell.

  I promise I won’t kiss you.

  But my lips break it.

  I let you know that I won’t love you.

  But my heart has no conscience.

  And no part of me will apologise.

  THE FRAGILE ARC

  It may have just been a moment to you, but it changed every single one that followed for me.

  THE CORNER OF ME AND YOU

  I don’t know if you felt that or not.

  But it felt like two people kissing after hours of thinking about it.

  It felt like two people talking after nights of silence.

  It felt like two people touching after weeks of being numb.

  It felt like two people facing each other after months of looking away.

  It felt like two people in love after years of being alone.

  And it felt like two people meeting each other, after an entire lifetime of not meeting each other.

  THE BOOKS NEVER WRITTEN

  Dragons, angels, gnomes, creatures beneath the earth that make words with hammers, a shooting star that shoots back, rain falling from the ground to the sky, bars that refuse to serve dwarfs or wanderers, a fountain that makes you young (and lonely) while those around you grow old, saplings that know everything, a sea made of tears from every lover who never loved, a silver boat with a sail made of pages from all the books that were never written.

  All my dreams are beautiful. But none as beautiful as you. You are the reason I return here each morning.

  THE TO NOT DO LIST

  There are a million important things to do. But none as important as lying here next to you.

  THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

  All persons entering a heart do so at their own risk. Management can and will be held responsible for any loss, love, theft, ambition or personal injury. Please take care of your belongings. Please take care of the way you look at me. No roller skating, kissing, smoking, fingers through hair, 3 am phone calls, stained letters, littering, unfeeling feelings, a smell left on a pillow, doors slammed, lyrics whispered, or loitering. Thank you.

  THE SPEED OF FEELING

  Now you’ve gone too fast. Now, you’ve made me leave me behind.

  THE HEART BEATS PER MINUTE

  You are the best parts of all the songs I love.

  THE NEEDLE AND INK

  Look at you, like a new tattoo. Because I might not always have you but I’ll have the feeling of you for the rest of my life.

  THE HEART RIDES ON

  I love you. I love your eyes. I love your smell. I love your hair. I love your laugh. I love your skin. I love everything inside you. And I’ll try to make all the parts that I find, happy.

  Because you make me happy. So much.

  THE LOVERS BLEED INTO EACH OTHER

  And as we touch, I can never tell if you are touching me or I am touching you.

  THE THINGS THAT ARE LEFT

  The world made me cold. You made me water.

  One day we'll be clouds.

  THE CIRCUS IS CHEAPER WHEN IT RAINS

  I’ve taken the same ride too many times.

  I could fall asleep in the loop.

  I know the clowns wipe the fake, makeup smiles off their faces once the show is done.

  I know the lions sleep in cages at night.

  I know the tightrope walkers have blisters on their feet.

  I know the ringmaster doesn’t believe in what he yells to the crowd anymore.

  I know the strongman, isn’t as strong as he once was.

  I know the candy floss has always been, just sugar and air.

  You are the only reason I come back here every night.

  THE SONG ACROSS WIRES

  I’m a picture without a frame.

  A poem without a rhyme.

  A car with three wheels.

  A sun without fire.

  I am a gun without bullets.

  I am the truth without someone to hear it.

  I am a feeling without someone to feel it.

  This is who I am.

  A mess without you.

  Something beautiful with you.

  THE FURY OF WATER

  You can try and hold me back. Build your damn walls, pack sandbags along the edges and yell at the clouds and the rain and the sky to stop.

  But I will not relent. I will reach you. Because I am the sea. And I will continue to love you no matter what.

  THE PLACE WHERE NOTHING HURTS

  There is no music, just the sound of the wind and the leaves it touches. But hopefully that’ll be music enough, for you.

  THE FIRE AT SEA

  When the tide goes out for the last time, all the shipwrecks will be waiting for us and the bones of the earth will shine bright white in the sun.

  When the tide goes out for the last time, I’ll meet you by the planes that never made it past Bermuda.

  When the tide goes out for the last time, I swear, we w
ill have nothing left to lose.

  THE BEAUTIFUL MESS WE COULD BE

  So may you find in each other what you came here for. And trust that this is love because it is (love is trust). And tangled lives you may lead but into each other, never apart, till you cannot distinguish between being and being together.