chickeeeeeeennugget

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

I feel like I might have trouble later pitching movie ideas based of off of the template: “my movies is [movie] and [another movie] if [something weird] happened”. Because how am I supposed to explain that it’s actually an idea I got when I was trying to write yaoi; the best I can do is say this movie is if avengers endgame was a yearn off between tony stark and Thanos and stark hesitated in snapping his fingers and it made everyone die

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Well darling we’re back here in the car. You’re sleeping in the passenger seat and I’ve got some Momo yamagichi playing on the speaker. You’re waking up and the scar on the side of your face gleams under the moonlight. I can’t seem to remember if I did that or some other no name asshole did.

“Baby?” You’re asking, voice sleepy and sweet. “You missed the last exit.”

“I wanna go to the ocean.”

“Are you planning to commit a murder suicide and drive straight into it?”

“No.”

“Ok.” You lean against the seat and yawn. I’d kiss you on the shoulder if I could. “Just wanted to make sure.”

Yamaguchi’s song ends. Some jazz comes up on autoplay.

“My favorite thing about you is that you don’t speak a lot.” I say.

“Well that’s mean.”

“Not in a mean way.”

“Sure baby.”

“I worded that wrong.”

“You sure did.”

A car beeps me because I’m going too slow. I press on the gas peddle and turn right. The ocean comes into view, a glittering piece of death waiting for someone foolish to come and wallow in its misery.

I park on the side, the lights shining softly on the sand. You’re snoring.

“Darling?” I say. “We’re here.”

You don’t wake up. You just keep your eyes closed. I can’t tell if you’re faking it yet.

I put on the parking break and step outside. The sand gets in between my toes. The wind is loud. Is sounds like it’d be good white noise for a movie.

I walk up to where the sand turns squishy and wet. A wave laps my toes. What a pervert.

“Darling you’re too close to the waves.” Your voice is a comma in the air.

I grin at you with a charming smile that only you could accept.

“Don’t be such a pussy.” I say.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“C’mere.” I saw. I tilt my head treads the sea. “Please?”

Something must be pitiful enough in my eyes because you sigh and trudge over. You’re carrying your big coat and you wrap the both of us in it. It’s a very big coat.

And at this moment I have the thought; I wish I could live here. I wish this sensation could last longer. The back and forth of the cold and the almost rough sand is distracting. The sound of the wind is too loud for me to think. Your body is very cold against mine. It’s comforting to feel too much all at once. Sometimes I want to ask if you feel the same way, but I think you’d call me a sap.

So instead I tell you that I think I could’ve been much more than a person standing at the beach.

“Everyone thinks that.”

“But I had more than everyone else. I was close, very close to being great. Better.”

“What’s it like to be better?”

“I wouldn’t know. Not this.”

You quiet. Then you take in another breath, the warmth on my cheek.

“It’s not too late.” You say.

“But it is baby. So many people tell you that and you keep thinking it and before you know it, it is too late.”

“Being a cynic isn’t a good look on you.”

“But I didn’t want to be like this.”

“I did.”

I turn my head to look at you. You’re too nice in my head, I think. You look up at me, scar down your face and painting a picture of a fucked up thing. Something small. It’s all I have as company.

“You did?” I ask. “You wanted to have something like this?”

“Yeah baby.” You smile. “I’ve imagined freezing my ass off in the ocean while you tell me you could do better.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re my best friend sweetheart.”

I wish I could say a big wave crashed into us and we both became lost at sea and died. Instead we both started shivering and you tugged my shirt and we started walking back to the car.

In the car you kissed my nose and lips and you tasted like nothing. It’s always been that way. You’ve tasted like the air in the sky, the moments of silence in an alleyway, the third water I’ve had on a very cold day.

You lean back and pop a coffee bean in your mouth and you start playing something from Wong Kar Wai. I turn on the engine.

“Hey baby?” I ask.

“Yes?”

“Was it a mistake to leave it all behind?”

“Why did you leave it behind in the first place.”

“I don’t remember.” I hold my head down. “I just remember I wanted to leave.”

“Well then I suppose since you’ve gone and done it you shouldn’t think about whether you regret it. Losers are people who wallow in the past.”

“Okay.”

I start backing out. The sound of the sea is gone. You look at me and give me that ugly smile. Sometimes I think you’re just a clone of me, and I’m just talking to myself. Would that not be pathetic, being lost in a room and having only myself as company?

Your eyes shine in the moon when you speak.

“So where to next?”

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

angel in the night

you shone too brightly for me

and I couldn't see I couldn't breathe

oh angel

you told me that anyone could be

anything

but like the damn demon

I still burn here

and I don't think

you have the key to get out anymore

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Fun aggies

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Baby i bet you get all the girls

Sometimes i do i do

Of course you do i mean look at you

What do i look like?

Something to be loved

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Baby for the longest time I didn’t think I was gonna amount to anything. I held onto your scarf and waited for you to come back but you didn’t and all I could think is that someone left me again. And you did. I know you abandoned me but I still couldn’t help coming back, couldn’t help curling up to your palm like a fucking mutt, but I figured if there was anything or anyone I was gonna kill it had to be you. I saw it in your eyes baby, your desire to be anywhere else but here living in that rotting corpse with those dead beautiful eyes.

I knew that I’d always come second to that flaming ambition of yours. You were only ever reaching for a goal far away from me and any happiness we could’ve had together. They’ll tell our story like a love story. I know the news will say it was romantic and beautiful and it was such a shame that it ended like that because it could’ve worked out.

But we know better don’t we? I knew at least. I knew how all this would play out since the second I saw you there with your hand in your hair and your eyes shining in the sun, waiting for someone to give you that hand to bite. I knew you were something waiting for destruction. I knew it and I loved you anyway because I’ve always wanted to be a martyr and I figured the mutts of the world should stick close.

So they’ll call it a love story. They’ll think you were good to me and I was good to you but we both know we were waiting each other out, waiting for the first punch, the last dance. And I think I loved you, and I know you loved me. We just confused hate with love so much that at some point it became the same thing.

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

He stands by the wall with his hands in his pockets as he watches with mild indifference as I walk up to the door. The moonlight from the window illuminates his hair just so, cascading him in an ugly light blue to contrast the dark cement walls. The guard presses my back enough for me to wince and stumble into the cell. He grumbles out a lazy mention about breakfast at five in the morning.

Yessir, I say.

The guard closes the cell door with a clutter and I listen as his boots clank down the halls. The prison is quiet. I know some of my neighbors cell mates are sleeping. Others are closing their eyes and trying to sleep. I can feel the eyes of the awake and up boring on my back, trying to see the burns and the mottled skin. I wonder if it shows through my black prison shirt, the blood seeping through and painting an ugly picture even though I know the skin has already started scarring over.

He squints at me as though he’s trying to figure out if I’m real. His footsteps are quiet as he slowly moves away from the window and turns towards his bed. It’s a ratty mattress that I can’t make out the color of in the dark. I watch him slowly get under the sheets and turn away from me.

No questions? I ask.

Don’t bother me.

But it’s what I’m best at.

Don’t. I thought burning you half to death would end this bullshit.

I walk over to my own bed and sink into the mattress. The springs poke at my back and send a jolt of pain up my spine, so I turn to my side to face the wall. It’s quiet. It’s too quiet.

I’ve never had a roommate before.

He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s awake.

I’m a night owl. I try again. I could go for some ice cream right now, man.

Can you shut up?

I laugh in the sheets, ignoring the creeping pain on my back and shoulders. There’s a pain slowly racking in my brain, and I can’t lie and say that his ratty mood doesn’t gives me something else to focus on. But I’m not sure how far I can push his buttons. Last time we spoke ended in flames and fire, and I don’t think I can go through that a second time.

I swallow, staring at the black in front of me. There’s a cricket outside, making the same noise over and over again in the quiet of the night.

Hey, I say.

He doesn’t answer. I talk again and ask him a question.

What are you thinking about?

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Literally like the prettiest sketch I’ve made of him

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

I didn’t tell you that everything changed

You were a song I liked

singing at the dead of night

torching your skin so it’d bruise my affections

All my poems are so cheesy and

edgy, do you still like them?

I wasn’t born a poet

I wasn’t born anything at all

I thought at least

there is a purpose in tragedy

but I’m not strong enough to go through that

hero lifestyle and

you’re a villain

A vile thing that shouldn’t be here

But yet you stay in that cage

holding onto rage and licking all

the old wounds that don’t heal

you poor thing

you poor damn villain

hiding in the corner

Thinking you’re important enough

to be that shining tragedy

at the end of the story

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

He steps into the room. The golden gates are right behind me. Hiro stares at me with an easy look on his face. He’s got a hand in his pocket. I motion for him to sit down.

Take a seat.

He goes to sit down in front of me. Some blood gets under his shoe and the floor squeaks when he sits down. I swallow and open my mouth. The words tumble out of me before I can understand what I’m saying.

I’m not going to say sorry because I’m not.

For what?

For being a spy.

‘S fine.

Did you know?

That you were a spy?

Yeah.

No. I didn’t know.

Hiro takes a sip of the clear liquid and blinks hard. He looks at the cooling bodies around the room. I wonder what he’s thinking right now. His face is passive, but I know it’s forced. A bead of sweat rolls down his chin.

Will you apologize for killing them? He asks.

No.

Are you out of bullets?

No.

I’m your favorite aren’t I. That’s why you haven’t shot me yet?

Sure, yeah.

Hiro’s laughter at my response fills the room. He stands up and staggers about, looking at the bodies of the people he’s worked with for years. This isn’t the first time a man has used his lifetime to stage a rebellion only for it to come crashing down before his eyes in a heartbeat. I’ve made sure of that.

Drink? I ask.

I look around for something I can pour into the glass. The blood on my knuckles are drying now. He doesn’t look at me. He just goes over to the body slumped over in the corner of the room and turns her face over. He stays there for a minute. I pour myself a drink.

So what will we do now? He asks.

I finish the drink and place it on the table. The glass is a red hue, and it makes little blood spots on the counter with its reflection. I shrug, although I am not sure if he knows I did.

They told me to bring one alive.

And is that me?

Yes.

What will they do to you if I kill myself?

I’m not quite sure.

He wipes some blood off of her face and stands up. I hear the heels of his feet press against the ground and he turns to look at me. He spits on the floor. The red of the cup dances on my hands.

You killed everyone.

I did.

Are you sad?

No. I’m not sad.

Hiro stares at the red on the counter. He looks back at her body on the floor. Mei looks peaceful. Her face has relaxed, and all sources of stress and worry are gone now. I made sure to close her eyes. I think this was for the best. It is. It is for the best. Hiro is looking at me again. He opens his mouth to speak.

Then why are you crying?

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Sugary sweet taste the blood

On my arm and around my fists

I told you I had a poem but

It wasn’t very good

You loved fighting more

Than anything

So it’s only poetic you’d die fighting

Those pesky little things

You’d always bite in

The middle of the night

A flame is what it was

You were fire and I was the pit collecting

Your ashes

Maybe the pool waiting

To put you out

God it was lovely

It burned but still you reflected your

Rage against the

Blue blue water

And I watched from afar like the

Coal waiting to be swallowed whole

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

I couldn’t hold you

In the night of the moon

Sunday morning on the couch

You held my hand

You told me

I could be anything

But we were five

And I wanted so badly

To remember your face

It’s fading away now

Like that black jacket

A little red

A little used

But it was yours

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

[chickeeeeeeennugget]

Silly