Life, one sentence at a time.

Sometimes I feel like wanting you is rattling the flesh right off my bones.

If memory is a myth, then the collide of our lips and the butter-smooth spread of your declaration of love are the setting, the plot, and the conflict to which I will allow no resolution.

She was a woman you turned into a wife, into a checked box, into my ghost, into a box erased, a leaden mistake.

This life has sometimes been a disaster, sometimes absurd, but I was made to love you and I’ll keep loving you even if it all burns.

This is what it feels like to walk alone through a chilly morning forest, my heart struck silent and wrapped in unending noise.

You spoke of pirates and ninjas but, for once, I can barely remember what you said because the way you kissed my neck was louder than any words.

God, please don’t take him from me again.

The world is orange with smoke and sunsets and heat and joy and endings.

I hope you find the kernel of goodness I have to believe is in you before it’s too late for all of us.

I gave you every little thing you asked for and that was my first mistake.

I am the alien in this world, the interloper, daydreaming about having a human body and a human life.

I was so busy fighting your battles I didn’t notice as you left our love on another battlefield to bleed out.

Because it’s such a freaking turnoff.

You must have really wanted to possess me because you expended all the greatness you had to make that happen and now all I am given in return is the husk.

I can lose everything, but not to you.

I will let my Cinderella story end one day so that yours can keep going, because that is the greatest love I can give you.

You love a good stage and an adoring crowd so I’m going to move my ghosts out of the way and give you both.