Life, Love, Poetry, Writing


Why must you be a child all the time?

With those dark, knowing eyes

and just-five-more-minutes-please smile.

Can’t you see that I’m tired?

I don’t have the time to play with you.

Maybe Tanya and Tina let you get away with it

but I’m not one of your little friends.

Yet you still try to sneak your way into my bed

When will you outgrow this phase?

Creeping fingers caught in the cookie jar and all my

spilled milk.

‘Mama, how much longer you gonna make me wait?’

You know I hate it when you call me mama.

I don’t have the time to nurse you, burp you, or change you.


— Janine Serioux

Life, Love, Poetry, Writing


You shift your body like a sigh

won’t look me in the eye anymore

only catching the end of every other word

and you won’t repeat what you used to say to me

Are you leaving?

It feels like you’re already gone

or you were never here

Who else is there, do you love her?

I don’t care

I’ve spent too much time to let go now

can’t sacrifice what I’ve settled for

just so you can be happy with some other someone

Yes, she’ll make you smile, but can she make you cry, make you scream, like me?

I know the story behind your every scar

shit, I gave you half of them

love is misery, honey

Who will ever love you more than me?

Life, Love, Poetry


You’ll never know
the graceless eternity I would have dedicated to you,
the fathomless tears I would have shed, for a pinprick of affection.
After goading myself into believing I was over it and you,
it comes all at once
in the comforting cradle of night
–the fact that you persist,
ever beautiful and imperfect and inexplicably right;
and that no matter what,
you did not love me.