I admire my work. And I think, about the cookie-cutter conversations, the Hallmark birthday cards with nothing more than a signature, the way I was always told you can do better but never it’ll get better

I am someone who will always doubt my feelings first, thanks to the years of ignoring the rage I felt toward my own blood. I am someone who has the capacity to hate, almost as intensely as the capacity to love.

The chain that used to hold the pearls of my Nana’s neck has been ripped from her memory, where Pearl connects my middle name to her first name.

Because when they see me
They see fragments of a flower
Yet find my veins to be flowering with weeds

The flowers pulled from under my skirt ~ you placed there only to fool ~ your audience into thinking that I shed beauty

He always has them on hand, and always gets more as gifts, and he never knows what flavor he is eating. He describes the flavor of his Jelly Beans as their color, meaning a cherry bean tastes like “red” and a pear bean tastes like “green.” Much like potato chips, and pretty much everything else, it is nearly impossible to get Opa to share his Jelly Beans with you. 

I want to eat fast and messy as an ode to the years I spent not eating at all ~ and I want to tell the men who told me I ate like a lady then to get absolutely fucked ~ I want to make art with the hair that I pull from my drain ~ and I want to dance under a moon with those who bleed with me

The urge to cover my breasts slowly waned as the water loosened my body, my legs untucked and floating leisurely ahead of me. No eyes, no comparisons, no expectations of shame over our bodies. We women just shared our solitude protected by thick wooden fences and the grey snowy sky.

In time, Dundalk fell quiet, destitute, all life existed elsewhere. The fog intensifies over town, obscuring light from the sun, allowing darkness to ease its way into the lives of the families

At that next appointment, there was no heartbeat and I hated that I was not attuned enough to my body, my baby, to know the moment it had stopped for sure.

In truth, I was not ready for the Binding of Isaac. I was not ready to be sacrificed, so I made the sacrifices I found necessary. It is said that my soul was there at Sinai, that the choice had already been made for me. I was not ready.

I got French tips with a rose-colored glaze. For forty minutes, I allowed a stranger to hold my hands and fondle the ten details I still had left of her. My finite proof that she was here, a sort of manicured perception of permanence.

When the sun sets, I dream of the daughter I do not have. Who will never feel the seasons change; who will only know the ocean as a black hole breathing in plastic

Our role in Darren’s struggle upsets me. I think back to how we parented Darren, and I feel strongly that our home was full of love, affection, and support. Of course, every parent makes mistakes, but what were ours? It’s hard not to fixate on our parenting flaws.

The silver shafts of my hair have convinced the others to soften and the spring of my life is blanketed, protected in a winter frost.

In a few minutes, I’ll make my way back to bed. I’ll slip in as gingerly as possible as the supporting role in your ruse, and I’ll close my eyes and listen to your breathing. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to fall asleep—or you, for that matter. But we will sleep, eventually. We will dream, eventually. We will meet in the morning, eventually.

A woman, a wife and a mother, goes out to the store and comes home with tiny limes, with Pepsi soda, with english muffins, with all the ingredients for a home cooked meal taken from the page in a yellowed family cookbook.

I couldn't handle the responsibility...the power of female hair and ached to be bald- Asexual. Neutral. Untethered.

You wish you hadn’t saved that letter of recommendation for 24 years, the Word file you avoid almost every day, the one you never got to send. You wish he had taken a different route, or maybe if he had driven a little slower.

they say that the days, they’re long, but the years are so short and before long, just a furlong away, you’ll discover that there’s no finish line –