Longer Pleas

i've been cleaning my room (for a change, for a change, in preparation, for a change).
i came across a brown portfolio, and in it was my past, condensed, epitomized, how sad.
i cringed, really.
'the younger years: memories are an inevitable curse'
'the longer stuff: nothing more than a longer plea'
and
'words, call it prose, call it nothing'

being eighteen must have been really, really rough.
wholly broken, incessant anger.

i fold the paper in half, laugh, tear it, and it falls to a pile next to my bed. my laugh wakes asia from her sleep and she rolls her eyes. i laugh, and it falls. the pain that dripped from that pen back then was so ridiculous. too much music, too much compulsion.

now, it's the same music, but more of it, and louder. it's more compulsion, it's sought after. and it's a fuckton of more subtlety.

good night, and good luck. :]

Two Guys Walk Into A Bar

'I heard a riddle once that I never understood.'

'Hit me.'

'So you have a lamb, a fox, and some cabbage, right? You have to get them across the river, but you can only take two at a time.’

Pause.

'That’s quite a conundrum, I guess.’

'Solve it.’

'What’s there to solve?'

'What do you mean what’s there to solve? How do you get them across the river?'

Longer pause.

'I'm...I’m sorry, I …I don’t really get the point of the riddle. Can you at least tell me why I'm even in this situation in the first place?'

'Solve the damn riddle, Kendall.'

'But wait, like, what, is it even a riddle? I mean really, there’s no twist here. And honestly, this is not that pressing of an issue for me. Let the lamb eat the cabbage, let the fox eat the lamb, who gives a shit? Let nature take its course for crying out loud. Plus, what if the fox attacks me when I’m taking it across the river? Is that what foxes do, they attack? Or what if the lamb bites me? I don't want to be interacting with this hypothetical livestock, contract some mad-hoof disease and never be able to give blood ever again. And how deep is the river, and how wide? Oregon trail style, forging the river, is my life at stake? Will Sally get bit by a snake afterwards and I’ll have to leave her behind on the dusty trail with a pathetic cartoon headstone? Are we to assume the Oregon trailers took the time to carve those headstones themselves like the game depicts? It’s just, I don’t know, I just don’t know. The more I think about it, the more it bothers me.'

'You ruin everything. Really, everything.'

'Is that another riddle?'

[i shouldn't feel this way, but i do.

i should mind, but i don't.]

i'd hate to think this is all for nothing,

'cause i kinda sorda want you endlessly.

Wrong-O

a rat-tat-tat, a rat-tat-tat,
where's this house?
you passed it.
(you never gave me gas money.

okay, you did once,
but it still wasn't enough.)

here's to the pieces never fitting,
here's to bending the edges to sleep better at night.
to the wrinkled cardboard, we raise our glasses.

cheers, mistakes. cheers.

jimmy eat world softly whimpers through the speakers, and from your drunken slump against the passenger window you say, 'i love the smashing pumpkins.'
'this isn't the smashing pumpkins.'
'well, i still love them.'

i didn't say it then, but i should have. 'fuck you.'

always count the pieces of a puzzle before you buy it, and if it doesn't feel right when you're coercing the corner pieces to sit in the epicenter of the montage, burn it.

Anthems

my best friend cups my face in her hands, and we cry. my best friend cups my face in her hands and my tears roll over her knuckles. (i'm here instead of home, and no, i don't want to talk about that, either.) she says, you're back, you're finally back, my kendall is finally back.

even if for a moment, i was back.
(don't take hope away from a person; it may be all they have.)

I dug my elbows into my knees and let my face rest in my palms, staring intently at my shoes. I pressed my left foot into the snow then raised it, having it hover while I analyzed the zigzag pattern imprinted in the snow.

We used to do that on the playground all the time. Press a foot in, pull it out slowly, delicately, look at my print. No no, look at mine. Mine is better; my daddy has an office job and can afford me these intricate soles. No no, look at mine: my daddy owns your daddy’s office.

Our own innocence overrode that of the virgin snow; we were branding nature for the sake of our enjoyment.

i have a nasty habit of documenting every single conversation i have and fixing it later on paper.
i have a nasty habit of reinventing my own history.
i make it more distant, more disconnected...or less?


i tell people the story, and they ask, why kendall? why do it at all?
because, i say. because. oh, and,
anyone who doesn't know how good it feels to be needed has obviously never been.


(update: currently unable to register how i feel/felt/will feel, but i'll keep the faith. haven't felt that good in awhile and i would very much like to feel that good sometime again.)
[park that car // drop that phone // sleep on the floor // dream about me]

Subterfuge

found some old poems; found some old memories; found someone to read them.
(some are newer than others.)
(the poems, i mean.)

the snow:
driving no longer procures any sort of rapture, driving becomes a task.
the snow:
attire must be planned in advance, getting dressed becomes a task.
the snow:
i take it i won't be seeing you anymore?
(breathing becomes a task.)

she chopped up a centipede in her basement.
she put the pieces in a ziploc bag and we watched them wiggle.
later that day, i chopped up an earwig with a sega cartridge.
the pieces didn't move.
now that i think about it, that's probably where all of this began.

let's get reacquainted.
i learned a new word, and it sounds like ...
i digress.

at the end of the day, i need to know that you're thinking about me.
that's not really a question you can or should evade; yes, no, never have, never will?
(regardless, i'm calling affirmative. i need that.)

meander, depart.
if i could focus on much of anything,
i'd be more of a something.

Limbs

i suppose it's a lack of intuition, a missing link or two in the chain of cognition. everyone else is able to tell which way each limb is twisting, the sounds of sockets popping so easily discernible. and there i am, waking up in the middle of the night, frightened by the unfamiliar auditory interruption.

i asked you once: how did you know?
you told me once: i didn't. i just had a hunch. i just went out on a limb.

and i'll sit there. in that chair. in my driveway. in the middle of monroe falls. and i'll rape all the vegetation around me. but i must be way, way off: where the hell is that tree?

i feel...pusillanimous. but in reality, that's the word flashing above your head in neon lights.
and the sign flickers. and it emits a drone. and it's a frequency i don't like. i don't like it and i don't know how to get away from it. the brakes squeak and your sign squeals, it haunts every fiber of my being.

you went out on a limb and you got what you wanted.
i need to find that tree; within the bark and gum of that stick of wood i shall find the demeanor that i exhibit, and i have to kill it.

i have to find who i am and then destroy me.

maybe arsonists are just trying to find themselves.
maybe forest fires are just brilliant epiphanies.

you traced every inch of my limbs with yours,
and i, for the life of me, cannot find that goddamn tree.

Sweetness Revisited

back to the chain of command. a year ago i'm here, a year ago is now.
when words lose their meaning, i'm back with these kids.
they're fun. they're real. they're high.
and high. you're always high.
when the weather gets like this and i get like this and you get like this,
i'm home. you're high, you're sweet, i'm sweet, i'm home.

if only, if only.

the question as of late: you down?

no.
no, i'm not.
but yes,
yes i am.

life's too short not to be down.
turn the car around, make arrangements,
live and breathe and feel and touch.
if you're down, you're not numb.
bottoms up, hands down, this is ohio, this is home,
being careful is for chumps,
of course i'm down, you have my attention,
and the sweetness will not be concerned with me.