Watching us flail our bodies like a bunch of life-sick idiots.

i wanted to be home. i wanted to be brave.

Don't you dare get cynical.

A song about a man’s last words, in a gas chamber, asking Joe Louis to save him – it’s an angel’s trumpet.

If there’s light beyond these woods, I don’t want to see it.

A single cell kicking off, snowballing at random, starting this all over—so Ashley said fuck it, let’s stomp it out.

I don’t remember ever being picky about what I ate.

A secret something that means you’ll never be in its circle though sometimes you are in its orbit.

No one else seems to notice the ingredient you add.

See you at AWP.

Sometimes I think the power is better than a hard drug. Scream in his face so loud the neighbors could hear.

I love him like a paper doll. He will keep us from the end of the song; we’ve heard the finale is an ache, a starving.

We’ll hold each other, hand in smoldering hand, until our next spark splits and we want to scream: Your hair is on fire.

Nobody’s speaking and the candlelight pulls beads of condensation from your tulip.

A bullet-proof backpack tops the list of school supplies my son is required to have for his firstday of second grade.

Side A: "Backpack Song" • Dora the Explorer (by Kip Knott) "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want" • The Smiths (by Marissa...

Daring the fish to bite, I waited all night as death's perfect bait.

"I google sunrise on the moon and we watch a timelapse of the ugliest morning we’ve ever seen."

"No one around to soak up what's left of me."

"Nothing on us but the eyes of God from space."