You were a summer gift, one I'll always treasure. You were a dream I never wanted to wake up from. You opened my eyes to things I'll never really see. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me.

When I was little, my friends would gush over wedding gowns and honeymoons. But I saw too many people flush decades together down the toilet over money or kids or meaningless flings. My own parents chose to stay married, which I think is rather funny, since they show about as much affection for each other as pit bulls in a ring. Tying the knot means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.

Must be nice to have that kind of unshakable belief in a merciful higher power.

When You Weren’t Looking The child became a woman, though she wasn’t ready to. Don’t ask how or why. Those questions are not important ones. Can’t you see you didn’t care enough to notice?

One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.

How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe

Life was good before I met the monster. After, life was great At least for a little while