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The longer you stare at something the scarier it gets. And sadly, that’s your most used sense. Your sight. Your eyes.

Clean the cobwebs out of your ears, my dear,

you are putting yourself back together

and I want you to hear me as I say this:

you are ready to step into yourself

I’m compelled not only to read, but also to consider the complete worldview of others, painfully seeing the crack that puts my world at crisis...

now press your tongue against your teeth

say rot! say truth! say life’s a brutal game

As she shapes my nails, we talk about the state of modern poetry, of literature as a magnum for capitalist venture...

When I listen to the radio, I can’t help but sing along, even when I know I shouldn’t—like when I hear a catchy tune littered with sexualized imagery and glittering misogyny.

I remember sitting on the pier and looking for butterflies swimming in the yellow waves below.

i must
feel
the rain
pitter pattering on the ground

The claiming of the presents I wrapped was to keep the peace, the lying was to protect themselves—everyone needs protection, right?

Mannequins are made of wood, and humans of flesh, but what about souls? What cloth do we dress them in?