i was fifteen when you left and i have been fifteen ever since.

can we act like we never broke each other's hearts?

they said i'm stuck with my brain for the rest of my life.

it takes two to be a stranger.

be selfish. be brave.

what does the god of your childhood look like? a soft apparition pigeoned in the attic.

like you, i can't sleep, because i love too many things, and my heart, dressed like the dead, overflows toward the universe.

i'm gonna leave you anyway.

a child who lost everything sits on the doorstep of a house that is no longer there.

you are embarrassed about your blood, its redness, the way it is just coming out of you with no concern for anyone's feelings. you are embarrassed to be alive.

memory taps a gun to your inner skull and demands you bring back the dead.

i was not a lovable child and i'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.

i feel it's my anger that has helped keep me alive.

where were you when i was still kind?

memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.

i have survived. i am here. confused, screwed up, but here.

i am bathed in tears of grief and despair.

for you were made from dust, and to dust you will return.

i was too good to last.

sunlight like a knife in the eyes, bright and frightening.