each time i try to finish this out, to leave a footnote that'll be an introduction, because of the way these things are structured, i get stalled. i'm not proud of any of this, but i erased so many things that i cared about, i feel like i need it here....

She watches her own grey toes. In the dimness of the room they resemble gravestones, which is fitting. She sees double, uses that as a sad amusement, blocking out objects with her big toe and still seeing them. As if she weren't even here. The fight...

If I could start over and do better I could do it now, now I know what to do. My floor would still be real wood and the would-haves would be dids. My limbs and heart would be hard and my mind would not be melted mush. My fingers would still be...

I live in a fire. I live on a stopped train full of chickens and cigarettes. The rain I catch in my hand is sap the trees sweat out and I am bleeding too. My skin's hot and dry, freckling at each burning pinprick. Standing in the bathroom, my hand,...

When I do cry I always go in the shower because I don't want to have to atone for my sadness. I don't want to be asked what's wrong and I don't really like other people to know I'm crying in the first place. Because it's weak. Because I want to be...