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Heartache & Lossexpand_moreThe girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”
“You need me,” says the mind. “I just want what’s best for you.”
do you asks pretty sue know what I love what pretty please tell us
The elevator inside him begins to fall with dizzying speed.
Tears sometimes come in a bottle. Open and apply several times daily.
I didn’t trust her. Relationships like ours aren’t built on trust.
A bird is chirping outside, the world is carrying on, and she is in it.
The five notes, slowly, over & over, and with some light intent.
Your soul feels old and familiar like a book that opens to my favorite pages.
He knows what she’s seeking, and he knows she won’t find it.
That’s why Mam drinks whiskey. That’s why he drinks whiskey too.
We walk in light so steep I can see each single stitch of your sweater.
Suddenly, all of the past seemed now like the same endless race.
He doesn’t notice the cop car rolling slow-motion into the station.
This must be what it’s like to be seen by God as we inch toward the infinite.
I have given everything at the wrong time, to the wrong people.
When I dream of lovers, I rarely see faces. It’s better if we never touch.
Our bed a garden of the littlest sighs of our waking. Our room, abstract.
I know you want your mother’s dial tone like you want a KFC box.
He is not a man, but an empty shell, a creature who laughs to stop the shame.
Please, Theresa thought, as a tenderness surged within herself.
I can’t talk yet. But I know things. I will tell you all this later when I can.
A Good Samaritan refused is no more good than any Bad Samaritan.
I lost my medicine bag from back when I believed in magic.
I commute to war five days a week in a station wagon the color of an egg.
I opened my eyes and they burned; I closed them and saw my father.
They do good things for us, the bats. But we do not want them there.
His mouth hardens whenever their son’s name is mentioned.
The dead children were wheeled away, covered with white sheets.
Why does she do it? She knows cutting yourself is a joke. Goth, idiotic.
