The Ghosts of Montreal

I live on the dot of the i

In the curve of a j

I live in that rvc single room

On that blue stormy day

In long patterned skirts

Every second is a haze

In white-washed rooms

White yellows in a blaze

I live at the window’s edge

Nude, looking for praise

On the corner of Prince-Arthur

Sheltered from the grays

At the top of Mont-Royal

Recreating sweet cliches

Wincing on Durocher

Before you moved so far away

In heavy strong breezes

On Fridays when they pray

And Thursdays when they danced

When I first told you to stay

In touches 

In whispers

In kisses and songs

In breathes of pure ecstasy

And sobs until dawn

In oversized sweaters

And the taste of coffee for so long

In heavenly lounges

When you still played along

In the passenger seat of your car

When death decorated the lawn

In a C4 common room

Please let me get what i want

In moments

In memories

In regrets never gone

In the last way you looked at me

When I fit right in your arms


I’ve been using creative writing as an outlet since fifth grade, and especially high school, where friends and I would share our art together and express all our angst. I consider poetry to be a way to express feelings that I can’t point out as important in isolation but when tied together into a cohesive story, my words can capture an impactful moment. I put it to the side once I came to McGill, only writing little love poems when inspired, until I broke up with my ex. When that happened, I lost a support network and all these emotions and images that didn’t feel significant to anyone but me were reawakened. I didn’t feel like I had a place to let my emotions spill out and when I write I feel like I have that space. In a way, it’s me talking to myself and trying to make sense of the way I feel, which is something I don’t feel like I can do in any other mode of communication.  

The two main characters in ‘The Good Place’ joked about living in a little capsule of time in the dot of an i, and I love that. I like the idea of two people living in their own space of memories and love, but in reality, things pass, people move on and you’re still stuck reminiscing. Montreal is a blueprint of love and hurt for me and I wanted to reflect that by making it a character in this poem, inspired by Lana Del Ray painting California as the setting for many of her songs. For me, artists like Florence Welch or Mitski are experts at capturing a feeling that’s so generally familiar yet so deeply personal, and that’s what I want to try to do. 

Winter 2019Yara S.poetry