Balance in Design

I have a surfeit of abhorrence,
I reject them with disdain.
Not antipathy, but an acquired disgust
For the execrated maimed.

I wholly regret my convictions,
As the blame they claim is small.
Design exhibits its most horrid flaw. --
If design govern…in anything at all.


and it doesn't. and i know that. but i could never say that. people don't want to hear it. people want to flip the pillow over to the cool side and think they are safe.

safe and sound in the delicate balance.

i have no balance, i cannot find the medium, the medium between what i should do and what i end up doing. between who i should like and who i end up next to. between what i listen to and what i dance to. between my deadbeat friends and the friends going places. between the lies that hurt and the lies that feel good. between the future i should pursue and the future that i don't care about, oh wait, last chance, those are one in the same.

a beautiful soul is sitting across from me studying for the mcat. i care about him, and he is one of those going places. and myself? i'm trying to save the neurologically-impaired through words and creativity and i am getting absolutely nowhere. i am a joke. ma vie est une blague. and fuck you, because you know what? so is yours. the kids are still crippled and you haven't made anyone proud yet.

i'm angry. i'm not content. i'm stealing glances at his stomach when the nurse sticks the needle in. i'm stealing glances when he leans forward to adjust his IV and the neck of his gown dips down. i'm stealing air from others when i suck it in, trying desperately to catch it, this is great, folks.

Tubes, Sugar, Blood, and Clean Floors

hospitals are almost as eerie as graveyards. the floors are too clean, moans from down the hall, seeing a kid your age strapped up to wires, blood dripping.

drip, drip, drip.

it looks like water, what they're putting into his right arm, but i'm nearly sure it's not. i think it's keeping him alive. or something. the potential [new] love of my life, smiling, saying he's okay for now.

thoughts, memories, oh hey, last chance.
vets are almost as eerie as hospitals.

i remember seeing the white mile. like the green mile, only for pets. we picked josie up from his overnight surgery. they yanked some teeth out that were infected, that were trying to kill my baby. i walked in, the smell of cleaning supplies attacking my nose. i scribbled my name and his on the little pad and stepped back. i heard them calling his name down the hall. i stepped away from the desk, arms folded. there sat a man with his hand on his dog's neck, both staring ahead with good posture.

a woman walked in with a rabbit. she was clutching the thing like she'd never put it down. a man in a lab coat came out of the side room and said hello to her, and to reese, and said to follow him. the woman's legs shook as she took reese into the room and they shut the door.

i heard the nurses cooing to my baby in the back. i stepped forward eagerly when they brought him around the corner. the nurse (?) handed me my baby and he wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his head under my chin. the nurse (?) said wow, he really loves you. yeah, i know. me and my cat. BFF.

i went to step back when the owner of reese burst out of the side room and ran outside. the curtains tried to follow her. the proper man with the proper dog flinched when the door slammed. the proper dog turned his head to look at the proper man, and the proper man said something to the proper dog. then they both looked forward again.

i stepped outside, the warmth of the sun and the roar of cars startling josie. i readjusted him in my arms. a woman sat outside next to an old greyhound. she gave me a blank stare before telling me that josie was a beautiful cat.
thank you, i said.
you love him? she asked.
of course i do.
i can tell. forced smile.
i went to turn when she said
don't let him go.

hold on to him tight.
with all you've got.
and never, never let him go.

i promised i wouldn't.

i walked to the van and climbed into the back, my mom finishing up her phone call before starting the engine. josie, high on whatever they gave him, flopped over to the other arm, eyes barely open. i looked to the car next to us, and there sat the bunny lady. her head resting on the steering wheel, her body riddled with sobs. i could hear her wailing. i could hear her broken heart. i could hear the footsteps echo off the empty walls in her house. not a home anymore. just a house. an empty shell.

a drop of blood ran from josie's mouth and hit my arm.

drip, drip, drip.

mom pulled away, leaving the broken lady, leaving the philosopher, leaving the prestigious man and his business partner. i tightened my grip on my baby. like i promised.

and everyone promises me that everything will be okay.

i'm nearly sure they wouldn't lie to me. he cracks a joke and his lips peel back over perfect teeth, again saying he'll be okay, and i force a grin back. don't lie to me.

if you're going to lie about anything,
anything at all,
please don't lie about this.

Then The Snow, Then The Sweetness

the flakes shining just under the streetlights, melting the minute they smack the pavement, but enough stick, enough to kill you. pull your scarf that much tighter around your vulnerable neck, look at that kid that much longer, it's fucking cold out but you'd stand outside all night and watch the smoke rings rise into the air, this is ohio, this is home.

the back end of the chevy whips across the center line, but you just laugh and bring it back, what's the point, they say, they say. the baby's at home, the baby's in the making, that one guy is 400 miles away now, ever think you're irreplaceable? just fall in love. this is ohio, this is home.

the crunch under your shoes, the drama you've created, the mess you've left. the world can't feel sorry for you anymore once you take the shovel from the hands of others. you hate the smell of smoke, it fills your lungs and burns the lining, your friends are going to kill you, but they contort their lips to the left and blow it the other way, and then it's okay. this is ohio, this is home.

these kids here? they don't judge. they let you be you, but they fall under the rug when you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself. these kids here? they make life worth living. when you head two states over to make something of yourself, and you fail, these kids are always here, and they don't judge. they don't judge. this is ohio, this is home.

the white on the black, the black on white, the roads shining, blinding you, feeling fuzzy, wrecking the only vehicle your family owns, you fuck up, it's all so sweet. the taste lingers in your mouth, the memories swallowed rest in the pit of your stomach, giving you the worst heartburn imaginable. ever think you're irreplaceable? just fall in love. and when you fail, these kids here? they don't judge. this is ohio, this is home.

Wisdom Chompers M.I.A.

kidding. they're on the counter.
they look so clean, so perfect, so little.
why did they have to be cut out? i don't know. low on dough, them surgeons.
it wasn't the most enjoyable experience i've had in the last four months or so, but in the context of pain, it was quite fitting. yeah. cue the sappy music. woe is me.

the needle went in, and this guy? man he was so funny. he was asking me all the questions he knew the answer to. who's your dentist kendall? like he didn't know! man. if i could go back in time, that's the first thing i would do: answer his questions wrong. just to trip him up a bit. feeling kind of funny kendall? yeahhhhh, but i like itttttt.

when i came to, i recall spelling things urgently with my hands. i know my letters, but apparently i wasn't making much sense. i could have sworn i was spelling out my brother's name, but he was standing right there, so maybe not. i then demanded someone's phone to text out my needs, but became irate because the phone wasn't in T9. lastly, i signed "tree."

excellent.

it's now been three days and i have to stop taking vicodin and i have to stop sleeping all day, or so they say. fuck the man, right? my mouth still hurts. honestly.