KANSAS CAN WINK IF THAT’S WHAT SHE WANTS

(Art Work by Kelly Zèlen via Pinterest)

Mending can only be done by an enthusiastic owner.

Ruins of intentional shreds, mercilessly torn apart from a floral pair of cotton pink bed sheets heap in the corner of Kansas’ dimly lit bedroom. A metallic green shade fences the blood stains with such an incline that tiny maps of careless posture are born. The bed sheets sit in a depressive pose, shreds hanging away from each other, torn apart like river branches from the folded top lining of their previously warm fabric. Tiny threads keep the shreds woven against each other flowing in a state of utter exhaustion from the disasters they have suffered. Next to them, smoke calmly rises from a yellowish- green of burnt THC spotted possessively in between plump lips. Kansas’ lips belongingly fold around the roach, habitually dragging and inhaling a thick cloud of smoke from her mouth to nose then followed by a puffing sound that occasionally escapes her delicate lips when she exhales. Her frame conceals itself like a shadow as if consuming her own entirety.

A warm tear falls on the right hand that holds the joint, making her lip tremble and vulnerably wrap around the joint once more. The evening wind vigorously ruffles through the curtains at her window and the rosary hanging at the top of her bedroom door, falls at her feet. Kansas’ palm suddenly drenches in salty water falling endlessly like a stream. Goosebumps cover her bare arms, it was likely to rain tonight. The tears on her face resemble the heap of shreds of her favorite bedsheets, they could both be wrapped together and taken for mending but they are so numerously torn apart that each one hangs almost independently. Both Kansas’ tears and her torn bedsheets are only distinct by the fabric of cotton and element of water- salty water.

Mending can only be done by an enthusiastic owner. Kansas as an owner, is expected to be the Israel to her tears and bed sheets, the promised land of her emotions and property.

When Kansas tears up, without the need to observe that which consumes her so much that she undoubtedly tears her emotions and even the property that she owns, the materials that are only deliverances to fulfill empty gaps of unattended emotions, similar emotions rise but only in a way that might destruct the materials and emotions along with the owner. The disaster of shredded bed sheets is no matter, for they can only be replaced as a pleasure but the cost of emotions being torn to nothing but a similar emptiness in material, encompasses the turmoil going on within.

Kansas can wink if she can, after all, it’s her eyes