all my missing pieces or all my hoarded holes

18 posts1, 2
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Hijinks
Gender Nonbinary
Points 22273
Reviews 458
Wed Jul 22, 2026 2:36 pm
Hijinks says... · Wed Jul 22, 2026 2:36 pm
07/06/2026
bus ride to the truth


*spoilered for language
Spoiler

i am sitting on the top floor of the bus,
losing track of myself as the trees coast by.
somewhere braided in the branches and pine needles
or wrapped around a trunk
or hanging from the underside of a bird nest
there might be a fundamental truth
about something, or about anything at all.
but my eyes do not stay focused long enough.
i am distracted by the earbuds pressed so far in that
they are injecting music straight into my brain.
i know the music is trying to trap some sort of fundamental truth, too,
but there are just enough holes that the truth leaks out.
but i’m catching drops of it on my tongue.
perhaps these are the last drops of truth left in the world.
it tastes sweet and sticky
and sappy. it tastes like cedar.
i’m grinding resin between my molars.
i'm tearing down handfuls of leaves,
tearing out matted layers of hair,
tearing out twigs and feathers and spiders.
tearing out earbuds
because these lyrics are fucking liars.
i will let this forest floor consume me with truth.
there is no need to fight the new roots licking my hip bones,
the lichen collecting around my neck,
the squirrel burying an acorn in flesh of my thigh.
i am closing my eyes and welcoming the truth.
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.

-- Hank Green

they/them
(previously whatchamacallit and Seirre)
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User avatar
Hijinks
Gender Nonbinary
Points 22273
Reviews 458
Wed Jul 22, 2026 10:03 pm
Hijinks says... · Wed Jul 22, 2026 10:03 pm
ten minutes of stretching


I feel the way my body presses into the air
holding shape
even while gravity gathers against my skin.

I bend my spine and pull my muscles taut
in every direction,
a rehearsal of how I move.

Moving is all of this:
pins and needles, bruises, tension held between my ribs,
knots winding from my shoulder to neck,
quiet creaking in my knees,
pressure hiding at the edges of my lungs when I breathe.
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.

-- Hank Green

they/them
(previously whatchamacallit and Seirre)
Quote




User avatar
Hijinks
Gender Nonbinary
Points 22273
Reviews 458
Sat Aug 01, 2026 6:45 pm
Hijinks says... · Sat Aug 01, 2026 6:45 pm
06/08/2026

the edge of the dead skin on my finger
is bleeding a red speck

there’s a match-tip on the carpet, unburnt,
a few feet from the ashtray

i say carpet but it’s really more of a mat, woven red and blue and gray

it feels comfortable pressing into the bottoms of my toes

but i’m getting a bit conscious of myself sitting here
when i have tasks i said i’d do

06/23/2026

i watch my bus's reflection barrel across windows:
the tim hortons, the barbershop, the women’s health clinic.
the wheel rims and metal panels lurch in high resolution
but the passengers are obscured behind tinted windows.
i’m on a ghost ride;
my features are unweaving into wisps of sweat,
breath, and pulse. the air has a calming pressure
in my nostrils, my throat, underneath my tongue.
at least i am full of something.
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.

-- Hank Green

they/them
(previously whatchamacallit and Seirre)
Quote

18 posts1, 2


Look, a good poem is a poem that exists. Any poem you write is better than the poem you don't.
— WeepingWisteria