Mystery Torture by Addi Stewart

a moment is a lifetime

times the silent violence of not knowing

we both don't win, what kind of crazy game is this?

playing with my heart, now I'm a praying atheist

cause hesitation to create a bridge of connection

makes me crazy and dangerously unstable

where did all that potential disappear to?

my ears do not fear truth

reject me or accept me

just say it so I can hear you

my phone is like an umbilical cord

to the soul of my vision and hope

next time you ring, I want to commit and explore like a marriage

if you're careless and unaware

then the hand of destiny will eventually become crippled and broke

but this is the beginning if we want to give a little bit more...

What I Learned Growing Up in Parkdale

BY EMILY POHL-WEARY

Cars never stop for pedestrians
Kids buy cigarettes in ones, it’s cheaper
Lake Ontario was once clean enough to swim in
Cadillacs invariably carry pimps
You can’t find parking on Sundays
Never trust others
Pick your nose when a pusher approaches
If you steal, you’ll get beat to a pulp
The cops only make you bleed worse
Guardian Angels are worse than cops
Hookers earn a decent living
The pimp always gets tired
Old women live alone
Boys trick you into giving them blow jobs
Residents’ associations only hassle single women
The guy who owns the grocery store kicks his workers
My babysitter turns tricks
After dark, every car carries one man
Hide-and-seek is a dangerous game
People can survive anything

*This is a poem I wrote a few years back. It's been published in a number of places, including my little poetry collection Iron-On Constellations.