this is what's at stake.

I’m tired of people looking at me for free. I want to be paid to be here.

One day i woke up & i’ve felt tired ever since

i wonder how small of a love i can survive on my stomach turns in on itself i do not hunger anymore

he […] has hands                          like the apocalypse

After screaming, [Cassandra] calls out the name of Apollo sixth times, then again a seventh time, but the seventh time, by shifting the inflexion of the name slightly, she shows its etymology. Apollo’s name is cognate with the Greek verb apollesthai, “to destroy utterly, kill, slay, demolish, lay waste.” By crying out “Apollon emos”, Cassandra can designate the god as “my Apollo” and “my destroyer” at the same time in the same words.

She wanted to destroy something. The crash and clatter were what she wanted to hear.

…and I can’t rescue what never happened.

I try, I do. I try and try.

i was so close to giving you everything. i was so close to making myself good for you, but i couldn’t stomach it.

A classic unspoken agreement among escapees from a small town: don’t look back, don’t be each other’s anchors, no nostalgia.

My heart is out of its flesh-phase. / I am done with all of it,…

For some time, the only thing I could recognize was my own hunger.

Time hates love, wants love poor, but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.

The question now is, will my feelings for you be changed? I’ve lived in you all these months–coming out, what are you really like? Do you exist? Have I made you up?…

MY MOTHER MARRIED A MAN WHO YELLS In this way, he is like and unlike my father. A man who would raise his voice at anything to unnerve it vs. a man who would yell at a can of tunafish he couldn’t get open. One, I watched scream until my younger brother pissed himself. One, I watched curse at a chair he stubbed his foot on. Both times I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Truth is, the man doesn’t matter anymore. Just the timbre. Just the anger. Just the volume.