Ramblings of a Kirby

It materializes as soon as I wake up

And the schedule starts to grind

Whether I want to get up or not

The quilt makes me think twice

Then thrice

Sometimes I get up and the quilt follows me

I try to shake it off

Yank at it

Yell my why’s and fml’s into the stale air

Sometimes I can convince it to flip over

The squares no longer taunt

But the weight remains

And it’s harder to see when new squares attach

Harder to feel when the weight increases

A square for chores

A lovely rustic broom

Full of rage and dust

One for friends, who oh so care about me

An apt picture of a friendly chat

My face growing sad

And my friend looking ever more menacing

A square for art, forever unfinished in its depiction

A scattering of insects, sweet and wholesome

Disgusting vile creatures come time to clean

A feather teaser, beloved by my tuxie

When woman spoke up about inequality

He granted her grace

And reminded her to not hide her strengths in a bushel

When woman was in pain

She screamed

And god granted her an abyss to listen

And when those who care gave her a space for her screams

god gracefully saved her from their manipulation

And reminded her of her righteous duty

And when the children heard her screams

She was reminded to keep it tucked away

To preserve peace

And when those screams tore her up inside

He filled the hole with what he pleased

And when her daughter wanted to scream

She told her to keep herself together

Crafted by you

Torn, split every way

Unrecognizable, unsalvageable

Made from wildflowers

Left on a rock

Some will pass

Fuck you

For caring for me

And telling me all the ways that I’ve been wronged

For holding me

And assuring that things can change

For making me start to trust again

It takes all your wants away but one:

Does my experience working on cars really even make me look tough enough for these guys? Can they tell? I was passing months ago, but it’s hit or miss lately. 

Two men behind me are performing a “bucket rescue.” I am intrigued, but I have no time to watch what they are doing. 

The confused dude squinted at the laptop resting on the truck bed, “What’s a project that you are proud of within the last year?” 

Fuck, IDK man. I’ve been waiting tables, changing oil, and learning about prehistoric humans for the past FEW years. Alright.

“The project I am most proud of was actually my most recent fix on my car. . . I recently replaced the uh. . . throttle body on my own car. It  took a long time to sand off the old gasket from the intake manifold, but installing the new part was a easy.” Good, good. You forgot the fucking name of the car part, but you demonstrated comprehensive knowledge on the car to make up for it. Nice, maybe I have a chance. 

“What do you do to,” he stared at the screen of the laptop for a moment too long, “commit to safety in the workplace?”

This is definitely the determining question. “I used to refuse to work on cars that weighed more than 2.5 tons because the lifts we had were only rated for passenger cars and I’m the one that went under the car to change the oil. We didn't have lifts rated for trucks, and I would refuse to put them on the small lifts even when the service writers insisted.” Wow! A decent response? Maybe? We may never know.

“Alright Kai, we will be in touch with you in about a week probably.” I shook both their calloused hands and watched my feet take me away from the parking lot.

Great. Another failed job interview. I know I look twelve. . . but my hair isn’t even dyed and I looked presentable enough. Just small-bodied and skittish. 

when a risk is hard to find

you put your attention on loan

and then a lock on your phone

my hand that you took,

actually a move of your rook

you made me out as a bitch

so much that I marked my wrist

there’s no regret from when I kissed