Sisters remain sisters even when one is going through nuclear-grade poisoning and the other is directing a DIY haircut through a phone screen.

I was a woman obsessed, before and after the overdose.

The thing about being a lesbian in New York City is that on the third Thursday of any given month you’ll have to stand in a hot Brooklyn bar that is absolutely teeming with gay people. At least four

We finish dinner and the waiter comes with shots of limoncello for the table.

64

What violence is there in giving someone a name, carving out Ida's real name

of these fourteen strips, lacing up the endless observations each day

in the deformed images of words that tell

I don’t want anything serious. But come to raves with me. Take drugs with me!

I laugh and say, “is that a Rupi Kaur poem?”

Over coffee, he told me he thought I dumped him last time because we had sex too soon.

Her umbilical right to intimacy makes me wonder if I ever left the womb.

The pain reminds me: I am here. I am real. I matter.​​​​​​​

Did I want to fuck her? Or did I want to be her?

It’s the question everyone asks but I’ve never felt it until now.

The hamster was actually a mouse. We were calling a lot of things by the wrong names back then.

why does it feel so much harder to see something happen to someone else than have it happen to you?

Prompt

# Tasks

Write a breakup text.
End relationship as clearly and concisely as possible.
Express disappointment, but be vague.
Make it clear that no further contact is desired or

While trying to sleep, I abandon the sex fantasies and imagine the feeling of being held by another. They’re soft and accepting and faceless, one of the pillow-folk from the Ringling Museum.

'It's a Catch-22 situation,' she said contentedly.

And I thought, 'Fuck this shit into tiny, tiny pieces.'

The winding roads were scattered with sneakily merging lanes and work-ahead signs. This would have set my head in a whirl if I weren't driving. We spotted sage, turquoise, and navy blue hues on our

fell into two traps—both of which I later found out were common coping mechanisms for those of us heavily affected by COVID isolation: a toxic relationship and belief in astrology

Then there he was, the cowboy whose name I forget, but remember as tall and lank and dressed in slim dark jeans he’d tucked into his boots unembarrassed. Having grown up in Texas, I understood everything about him in an instant on a level the British girl never could.

When you texted him something passive aggressive because he didn't answer your text in a timely manner, did he ignore you harder? Small dick energy (SDE).

1.   [User] searches for [potential ex]’s profile.

2.    [User] views [potential ex]’s profile.

3.    [User] unfollows [potential ex]. 

4.    [User] views [8 photos] on [potential ex]’s

Why do I miss us at our worst?

We really hit our stride in Gender Justice class when the Women’s Studies department asked me to teach and I invited you to join, thinking a co-ed experience would best serve our students.

I started talking like a retired showgirl in a ruined by cigarettes raspy voice and asking my mom things like ‘what good is Tom without some of Dick and Harry on the side?’

His friends document their lives incessantly. Shots of grand scenery from lookout points. Screenshots of their heart rates and macros.