Sad eye’s
Sad eye, your empty hand’s always holding onto something
Candied fish splayed on the rocks beneath the falls

Did you forget
To take out the trash. To remember my name?

Sad eye, you always could hold a gaze,
Follow me down every aisle, shroud me in tender violence

Or otherwise grieve against a jawbreaker,
Weep into the chlorine, or wank sorely for a toothache remembered

Take this bread, swallow this dose of seaside dream;
A broken glass, the swift smell of gasoline
A shattered tortoiseshell on a gravel path
The five-lined skink in the wood pile always striving for a stronger hold

On the day the vapor canopy soaked us from tent to bone,
A Bluetooth speaker nagged on with its chorus: lost connection lost connection lost
connection lost connection lo

I, drowning, struggle against the needle, the notion that I was for you
And sleep crushed against the reason and the bluelight

Of your sad eye


Sad eye’s II
Your brother gone,
The sun still draws the lines with clumsy child’s hands

You are the hero of your life story
A real River Phoenix; you cry at his ashes
You cry because

A phoenix bathes
submissively in the river

Hungry as the time you
Fed me your dessert
like a dog under the table

Never quite holding the spoon
at the right angle for me

River, he honks a dirge
Now you
Left behind
Stand tall beneath
Life’s Napoleon tombstone shine

Which, licked-clean,
Washes its hands
of the mess we make

"Sofie Bedard is a queer writer and poet living in Toronto, Canada. She holds a BA in English and works full-time as a content creator. Sofie spends most of her time writing, sleeping, sleepwriting, working on her poetry chapbook, and wondering if it would be ok to eat chili in bed. You can find out more about her and her work on Instagram @sofisms.”