In terms of a break-up, gonorrhea is a god-send.

I stopped taking the Wellbutrin cold turkey during the 2020 lockdown... All was well until one day when an ex that I had a tumultuous history with demanded I undo the hex I placed on his dick. The accusation sent me spiraling.

Picture me, splayed on the bed on top of Liz. I’m wearing a pink thong, she’s still in her jeans. She spanks me; I deserve it. She spanks me again. My breath flees my lungs, a flock of geese taking

your uncle has a whiteboard on his wall and on it it says TO DO: TELL TERRY YOU LOVE HER. he wrote that you don’t know how many years ago. terry was his girlfriend but she’s dead now

The seductress in my head smiled and said “What else am I not allowed to talk about, Avery?”

But we were just going to be friends.

Showboat said he'd like to take me out sometime. I asked why.

“Because I think you’re attractive, and so we can hang out somewhere other than the coffee trailer,” he said.

It was October, ten

For, indeed, posole shows you he can cook. He fancies an air of the quixotic.

He must be a feminist.

This isn’t the first time someone I considered a friend has confessed their love for me.

I am supposed to call myself a survivor, but honestly I don’t think surviving is what I’ve been doing.

While I sucked my husband’s penis he gaped at the sky, to which he exclaimed, “That’s the most orange orange I have ever seen!” 

1. A well to do woman hosts an orgy that gets gate crashed by a vanilla couple (I just want to be included).
2. A boy is seduced by his ex-girlfriend’s hot mom on the Fourth of July (I’m facing my fear of MILFs).

The first man is the only one that kills you.

—COLETTE, La Naissance du Jour

Who is Angel? Who am I.

Have you ever loved a mirror?

Laughed, on suicide watch, until Kool-Aid spilled

The summer she was without anyone

and I had just left the other girl

in Jersey City,

Molly and I kissed at her house. We were adults

who lived with our parents. She seemed like

He was too poor to erect an everlasting monument in her likeness, all he could afford were words.  

That was my youth: I developed a sickness, a ruinous crush on the man at the filling station

1. A bottle of orange wine – half a packet of cigarettes.

2. You caught at the bar the space so crowded that people were practically caught under your armpits – grinning nervously, two pina coladas in hand.

3. A kitchen dance – or two.

4. Luther Vandross.

I knew the talk about a baby was another red flag, but the more uncontrollable Amelie became, the deeper I got hooked. I couldn’t go back to what my life was before. I think it had been drowned the

I am not sorry about most things I’ve done; I really do try my best to be good.

The hangover was ruining the romance. Last night I woke up a friend and made her drink wine—Chateau 2016. I had to deal with my nerves somehow.

By March of 2016, my cousin Josh and I were practically flat broke. We’d been having an incestuous and adulterous affair, one that elevated his title to “cuzband” (he hated that term). Four years

One night I was so drunk, I couldn’t feel my face.

I was drinking bitters and soda with lemon, my new signature drink. It has .03% alcohol, less than a bottle of kombucha.

When I asked years later if you had a sex addiction and you said, No, do you? I hesitated before responding no, because I was thinking, Only to you.

Snapchat filter. Left.

but you know there is a Truth Moment coming, and sure enough the next morning he says hey and you say hey and he says sorry about last night