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Kendall Seers Mar 2020
There is a rush to throwing yourself into a wave.
A certain giddiness or
a daring hope,
that this time
you will make it to the other side.
Head high and anxiety low,
Able to reassure yourself that
Yes, you can do it.

It is such a rush
that when the ocean breaks on your head,
you know that underwater is temporary,
And bearable.
So here you go.
Set your eyes on that wave,
tell yourself,
this time I will do it.
I will never know
If I don’t try after all.

So what if I have been here,
been trying, for years?
The water laps at my neck, as I cough.
I have been at sea for so long,
my muscles ache, heart most of all.
I keep trying, though
My lips are blue,
glabrous flesh has wrinkled,
And I can hardly see
for all the salt in my eyes.
I can’t tell.

Though I crave to rest,
The sea does not care.
Each attempt leeching heat,
and locks growing green as kelp.
I fear that should I rest now,
I would never see shore again.
But rather,
find my new bed is one of the sea,
Where I could sleep,
undisturbed by the crashes above,
and never drown.
Being neurodivergent in university is a heck of a time.
  Oct 2018 Kendall Seers
Its okay if the only thing you did today was breathe.
  Jul 2018 Kendall Seers
there are two ways of love, this is how you learn the second:
you. are not. alone.

the first way of love is all you:                                                             ­         
you, when you learned how to make others laugh.
you, the girl who brings tissues and doesn't say a word.
you, the girl who promises you will never see me cry, and keeps it.
you, because you take 4 trains over 2, to get your friend home safe.
you, developing a mask to hide your damage, so you hurt no one else.

that's how you break - exhausted, at your limit, and alone                    
except - you're not.

the second way of love is more, them:
the way they catch you, somehow, when you fall.
how you stop flinching away from physical contact,
because you're used to it,  now, because now it's - safe.
all the many, many, I'm here(s), that take you by surprise.
how you infringe upon their space, and they welcome you in.
the first time anyone tells you to let me know when you get home and
the second. and the third. because people don't - didn't - care about you.

learning to love on a broken heart
means you expect everything to shatter in front of you.
means you're always paranoid, and always terrified.
means you always know to expect the worse.

but the second way of love,                                                            ­                
is the sort of way that gives back.            
makes you remember that thing called hope.
teaches you how to say I love you, in the first place.
teaches you, it goes both ways, teaches you, you. are not. alone.
(makes you believe it.)
Kendall Seers Jul 2018
Your poetry is like cinematography in my head.
How do you do it?
How do you point the formatting like a camera,
like you’re panning for gold,
and discovering something precious
so deep and real
just with the position of your italics?

I told you this,
and then you reciprocated,

I, on the other hand, use word choice
I listened and heard your intention
I choose and commit to one
like an undying promise
imbuing that choice with all the meaning I can.

You tell me you noticed,
and I suddenly had no words.
It's so meta even this acronym
  May 2018 Kendall Seers
I have a waltz, playing behind my eyes - open or closed -
three time.
one-two-three, one-two-three,
a silhouette of two girls dancing.

I learned it when I was 7,
playing dress-up as Cinderella -
my grandmother taught me, dancing around her dining room table.

There isn’t any music, just a rhythm -
one-two-three, one-two-three,
three time.

But there wasn’t any music in real-life, either -
just a fast song we ignored, tired of jumping up and down like crazy people
(or high schoolers who couldn’t dance)

I can’t dance” - I had said, at least four times already, an attempt at an apology,
watching our two friends take the dance floor by storm.
Yeah, neither can I” - I got back, although you knew Swing, I was fairly sure,
Well, except the Waltz,” I think I said, my attempt to make up my own inadequacy -
So do I,” you said, and then, most hesitantly, gesturing to nothing at all, “do you want to?

I didn’t remember most everything, just that it was three-time,
I let you direct my hands where they were supposed to go, covering shoulder and waist - and then we were, for all purposes, ready to dance.

and No - I don’t know what it meant, if it meant anything, -
just that it was awkward, a bit, because the fast music messed with the three-time rhythm so my steps were a bit off beat, and that the song ended just in time to stop it from becoming truly awkward,
just that we were friends, and I had never danced with anyone before,
grandparents aside -
just that it was lovely, and it made me smile
just that I can’t stop remembering it, but I don’t really mind.

Because we did dance;
the left back corner, a section of the dance floor all our own.
Kendall Seers May 2018
the rain looks a certain way today
in what way,
I couldn't say

but I can tell you about the sweet,
light and cool, coconut water that sat so gently on my tongue.

I could tell you about the squidge,
that sound of the liquid inside dumplings
as it flings out in a single burst.

Or the veil of heavy heat
that drapes itself on my back
lounging, and resting languidly.
Kendall Seers May 2018
No one ever gave me an inch
so to take my mile
I had to carve it out
myself out of blood and dust
and saline
No one would have said I was nice about it
I never felt I could be
lest I found myself picked up
and tossed like so much trash
So I was called bossy
and mean.

What a self destructive cycle
they wove for me.
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