Gone Lawn
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Gone Lawn 53
wolf moon, 2024

Featured artwork, Within Grasp, by Jacelyn Yap

new works

Rue Huang

Woman Accidentally Joins Search Party Looking for Herself


MISSING PERSON REPORT: Asian, about 160cm, in dark clothing and speaks English well.


* * *

PARDON MY DEPRAVITY. I DIDN’T MEAN TO DISAPPEAR FOR SEVEN DAYS, I ONLY WANTED TO LIVE WILDLY AND DELICIOUSLY AS A WITCH OF THE WOOD. HERE, HAVE A PLUM I PLUCKED—WATCH AS IT WELDS TO YOUR CHEEK. I’M NOT INSANE BUT I’M NOT STABLE; I’M A THIRD, SECRET THING. I AM TIRED, BUT I HAVE GOALS. I AM ADDICTED TO ANYTHING THAT DISTRACTS ME FROM THE FACT THAT I EXIST; I POUR MY HEART AND SOUL INTO MY WORK AND IT DEVOURS ME. YESTERDAY I ACCIDENTALLY SHATTERED MY STOMACH, THOUGHT OF ALL THE THINGS I COULD BE: 1) THE SHINING SPACE BETWEEN DOORS, 2) A WORLD OF BEAUTIFUL DESIRES, 3)                              4) AN ENDLESS FIELD OF UNDULATING WAVES. INSTEAD, I WATCH DREAMS FOR MOVIES. GROW INTO A STRANGER. FLICKER AS A BURNING STAR FLASHING IN A STREET LAMP. BUILD A HOUSE WITH THE WORDS I SPEAK, PRETEND I DO NOT INHABIT A BODY, WATCH THE 7 O’CLOCK NEWS AND SCREAM AT A PIXELATED POLITICIAN. MY PROBLEM? THE MORE I DESCRIBE ANYTHING THE MORE VAGUE IT GETS, BECAUSE WHAT CAN’T BE FIXED WITH A GUT-WRENCHING, GUTTURAL PRAYER TO GOD? HOW CRUEL IT IS THAT I’M LEFT HERE WITHOUT YOU. DON’T ASK ME WHAT I WANT BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW. DON’T ASK ME WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW EITHER. I DON’T KNOW SHIT BUT I CAN STILL FEEL THINGS. I WEAR MY HEART ON MY SLEEVE AND IT RIPS, AND I KNOW I SHOULD PUT IT BACK INTO MY RIBCAGE BUT I CAN’T BRING MYSELF TO. COULD ANYONE, EVER? IN THIS SAD GENERATION WITH ONLY HAPPY PICTURES, GIVE ME YOUR HAND. I COULD SCRIBBLE ON IT. I COULD CONTAIN MULTITUDES. I COULD BECOME A BEAVER AND STUFF MY BELONGINGS INTO EVERY RIVER, SCOWL AT CHANGE.                 TELLS ME THAT EVEN THE WORST THINGS HAVE THINGS TO LOVE IN THEM. I SAY THIS SO THAT YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND PRONOUNCE THE T IN OFTEN BECAUSE NOTHING MATTERS ANYMORE. WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.

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It was honestly a relief because she didn’t know who she was looking for, either. When they pointed at her and yelled, Isn’t that who we’re looking for? She yelled too—Where? Where? No one seemed to care. In fact, they seemed annoyed, maybe even angry. In the end, she found two fragments of her eyes, one piece of her soul. They were hidden in the storm drain.


Works Cited

Rue really loves blueberries and jazz. You can find her doomscrolling @rue.huang on Instagram.