You who have inhabited me in the deepest and most broken place, are going, going
sorrow is easier than guilt.
the marriage twists, holds firm, a sailor's knot.
I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.
I am stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face.
When I'm writing, I know I'm doing the thing I was born to do.