verdad.

I was made to love you

You know, there is an exact moment during take-off where a plane has no choice but to become airborne. Once you hit that speed, being in the sky becomes safer than being on the ground. You're flying, whatever the consequences may be. There is no escape. You have to keep going forward. You've passed the point of no return. (Door clicks) I was flying so high above the Earth I couldn't see the ground anymore. I looked for landmarks that might navigate me home, but I was so far up everything seemed unfamiliar to me.

Fetus

I want to belong to you, like a name. I want to be a thing people have to know to know you.

I've read your blog for years and echo your words to help me through life and heartache.-Thank you.

I am not signed up with tumblr but nevertheless have been following your blog for a number of years now and I love and appreciate everything you post. So thank you. Plsssss tell me you have a Twitter!

All I ever really want to know is how other people are making it through life—where do they put their body, hour by hour, and how do they cope inside of it.

Six horses died in a tractor-trailer fire. That's the hard part. I wanted to tell you straight away so we could grieve together. So many sad things, that's just one on a long recent list that loops and elongates in the chest, in the diaphragm, in the alveoli. What is it they say, heartsick or downhearted? I picture a heart lying down on the floor of the torso, pulling up the blankets over its head, thinking this pain will go on forever (even though it won't). The heart is watching Lifetime movies and wishing, and missing all the good parts of her that she has forgotten. The heart is so tired of beating herself up, she wants to stop it still, but she also wants the blood to return, wants to bring in the thrill and wind of the ride, the fast pull of life driving underneath her. What the heart wants? The heart wants her horses back.

Hours later, the cat was asleep, and Erin lay next to it, her eyes half-closed. There was purring. I felt content. Why does it give so much comfort to be responsible for someone’s sleep? We all — don’t we? — want creatures sleeping in our homes while we walk about, turning off lights.

The String