The world we made together is gone now. Silk and cinnamon do not bring it back to me as clearly as the smell of potatoes frying with onions, or the purr of a cat, or the feel of a knot beneath my fingers. And that in itself is proof of how the voyage...
I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy -- a little boy!
The sky is always beautiful. Even when it’s dark or rainy or cloudy, it’s still beautiful to look at. It’s my favorite thing because I know if I ever get lost or lonely or scared, I just have to look up and it’ll be there no matter what...and...
I once heard someone on the radio saying that a bee is never more than forty minutes away from starving to death, and this fact has stayed with me because it seems to have a certain personal resonance. My children are in a perpetual proximity to cata...
I got both hands on her throat and there was nothing inside me but the black madness of that desire to kill her, to close my hands until she turned purple and lay still and there’d be an end to her forever. Let them send me to the chair. Let ’em ...
Shea is in my arms in seconds. We’re not just holding each other but pressing out all the bad, letting it seep from us, and allowing it to disintegrate in the air, leaving room for only the good within our embrace. With everything that we have with...
On Holy Saturday I do my best to live in that place, that wax-crayon place of trust and waiting. Of accepting what I cannot know. Of mourning what needs to be mourned. Of accepting what needs to be accepted. Of hoping for what seems impossible.
I want to be judged by who I am as a person, not by what happened to me. In fact, all the bad things have only contributed to my confidence and sense of self, because I survived them and became a better and stronger person.
But this woman makes me want to do things I didn't think I was capable of. Her love for me makes me feel like I have no limitations, that I can do anything I set my mind to do because she believes in me with her whole heart.
Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty an...
She fit her hand around the curve of his whiskered jaw. “I’m sorry. But I knew you would not leave otherwise—” “Damn right I would not have left,” he said gruffly. “Don’t you understand what you mean to me? You are everything. Never d...
Worry was my mother's mechanic, her mechanism for engaging with the machinery of living. Worry was an anchor for her, a hook, something to clutch on to in the world. Worry was a box to live inside of, worry a mechanism for evading the present, for re...
My heart kind of hurt when I looked at her. Not because I was in love, but because I could tell from looking at her that she didn't hate herself. Not only didn't she seem to hate herself, she barely seemed to think about herself. How fucking glorious...
My world foreshortened, flattening into a credit card. Seen head on, things seemed merely skewed, but from the side the view was virtually meaningless--a one-dimensional wafer. Everything about me may have been crammed in there, but it was only plast...
You don’t have to sleep with guys,” I whispered, “to make them like you.” Kya stared at me for a moment with heavy eyelids. “You don’t get it, do you, Gracie? I sleep with them so they won’t like me.” My heart broke for her a little m...
I had a dream about you. You were drinking coffee, and I was eating coffee with a spoon, like soup. You thought I must be hungry, and you were right—I was hungry for your body. You had woken up my desire.
I had a dream about you. The lettuce in my sandwich was crunchier than your conversation, and all I could hear when you spoke was myself chewing. You made such a tasty conversation that I can’t even remember what you said.
I had a dream about you. I think we made love, but I can’t be certain because the scenes were censored by the Moral Authorities. The thing that pisses me off is my grocery list was identical to the Blacklist, so I was starving throughout the sequen...
I had a dream about you. Of all the flowers I’ve ever loved, you were the one who looked most like a woman. The others didn’t look like men, unless you count my Uncle Butch, who looks like a rose.
I had a dream about you. I asked you, “I haven’t Heaven in your pants, have I?” and you deferred to your dad, who made me sign a waver and waved me off after putting my name on the waiting list.
I had a dream about you. You left your popcorn in my microwave, so I decided to enact revenge by selling the essence of your stinky fridge as a fragrance marketed toward the same people who buy Kanye West albums.
