The Boy was born poor and continued to be poor.

This is a meaningful story about the intestinal parasite I picked up while living in Salt Lake City, in Ted Bundy’s house. 

A bald eagle was shot directly above my head, mid-flight, and its feathers rested gently on my scalp for the rest of geological time.

I was so broke I went to see my mother.

Esther rises and pulls the cord and moves to the front of the bus, whereupon it brakes and kneels.

Susan bought a gun that shot doors into things. The doors were small and led to incredible places.

We receive phone calls inviting us to the ocean, (a beach day!) but of course we can no longer fit in the sea. We are too big for open waters.

One day, recognize your malformed loneliness like a tumor in your throat.

Welcome. Please don’t take my talking as an assault to your personhood. 

“We need a gift that’s really her,” I said. “Really Sophia.”

“Could you define her?”

“A truly independent mind, a renovator, a cultivator.”

Since they had moved to Orangeville, Trudy found she could no longer distinguish Kevin from other men.

On the morning of my sixteenth birthday I made a list of stuff I didn't believe in anymore.

“It was misery, real misery. But, Doc keeps telling me I’m all clear, so I ain’t going to argue with him.”

"What am I supposed to do?"

i know it’s not something you really need to hear—i’m just one of many fans—but can I just take the opportunity on this comments section to say, i really love how you brush your hair

Zero to one-hundred.

Lucy seemed to love being shocking.

I was small and fragile like the antique vases in her parent’s living room, the ones we could lookbutdon’ttouch.

Mom and Drew ate tuna melt sandwiches on their porch while a light rain fell from the sky. She pointed to the sun emerging from the clouds and smiled.

We should talk about last night.

He was at the sink washing dishes ... 

Praise be. 

Promise to not assume that this is the one and only truth about my feelings for Liz. I had this recurring dream of me devouring her.

I can show you the double-rimmed chain-netted concrete court where I taught myself it was okay to aspire.

 I walk around the trailer park that has been dropped on top of a small hill like it’s just bird shit on a windshield. The boy with ‘Mama Tried’ tattooed underneath his eyes and ‘Country Fried’ inscribed above them got shot through the heart in the smallest trailer in Hogwaller.