why do trees foam when it rains

some emails ive written lately/the return from humble/crude soap

dramatic junk/monday may 5. 7:56am

its monday morning. the first in may. everything is wet and green. 
the trees foam and the air is heavy. bugs fuck on the bathroom wall while the fan is surprisingly effective at turning the steamy air clear. though heaviness lingers luxuriously on every surface, coating gravity in water. 
ive already had a cup of coffee and im wanting another one. i'll probably have it even though the drummers in my legs and the swirl in my stomach that have kept me slightly uncomfortable through the night and morning will probably only be emboldened. ive been feeling self-indulgent and self-centered. useless and faithful. ive been as close to present as i can and reading lots. the words bump against each other trying to reach me but most dont make it through. im too lost in my own thoughts for their impression to be more than they are. 
ive been permissive and inconsiderate and ive been thinking about how some people are simply remarkable. perhaps all people. i want to be swirled up with them in something sinister and ripe and really human. im tired of trying to be sweet. 
i want to be romantic and malicious. a rich conversation of frustration and fluidity. and i want to stop asking for forgiveness. i want to get rid of my cellphone and make myself a place. 
perhaps ive acquiesced to nihilism. and im seeing myself as remarkable enough for it to be forgivable.
tell me the truth but just enough of it. i like it when the rest is a puzzle.
whats up with you? 

monday may 5, 7:56pm

its raining again and the sun has nearly set. im smoking on the porch and watching the raindrops fall into the lake forming in the driveway. saturday's clothes sit still wet on the porch getting wetter because the air can do nothing but relieve its own weight. 
perhaps thats what im here to do too. 
i try to exhale prayers but im only here for me. im thinking of offering the water some tobacco- my first thought of buying some was to do just that. i haven't. and when i finally bought some it was only to offer it to myself. 
im thinking of how i want to give you everything and maybe just so that i can be a part of everything to you, or maybe so that i can take it away. deep within me lives a sense that i can only have what i want by taking it away from someone else. this realization lands easier than it should. im greedy and hungry and nearly certain that nothing else matters as much as myself. 
i want to stand next to you in the rain on the porch, each of us oozing guilt and redemption.
im looking for god and all im finding is you and me. me me me. 
im afraid this is all i am. and desperate for someone to tell me its enough.
our belonging is simply factual and cosmological. i am only what i am and each cell of me exists and is individually complex. when i think of that it feels silly to even consider some external worth. 
often when you send me an email i feel as though its just right. 
i wanted to write this just for me. but i need your audience for this performance of my life. and my current inclination for greed and languishing in self-importance is leading me to use dramatic vulnerability as currency. i guess its up to you what its worth
if i read this in confession what would the priest tell me to do?

excerpt from “good friday/what makes it all worth it”

im feeling desperate and slow and im missing the feeling of having a place to hold me while im growing and changing. i think i really took it for granted when i had people who hadnt even thought about not loving me unconditionally. maybe im doing that now. i feel like im growing a lot these days but it feels so raw and alone. maybe ive always felt this way. but i remember being a teenager and spring coming and fear and change welling up in my body and walking out of the car into the first warm nights knowing that in a few months i would be at camp and the hills and the stars and the frogs would hold me and i could be as full as ever and i could only imagine everyone feeling grateful. is it an internal or external force? 

he asked for help only once. and it came, was it in the way he was expecting? did he feel like he was waiting forever? it was only a day

my dad is simple and patient and loves me unconditionally and i think seeing him is exactly what i need right now. i wish you were going to be around to meet him.