I Don't Have A Copy Of My

A Dysfunctional Family Is Any Family With More Than One Person In It.

There's A Space At The Bottom Of An Exhale, A Little Hitch Between Taking In And Letting Out That's A Perfect Zero You Can Go Into. There's A Rest Point Between The Heart Muscle's Close And Open - An Instant Of Keenest Living When You're Momentarily Dead. You Can Rest There.

I'd Spent Way More Years Worrying About How To Look Like A Poet -- Buying Black Clothes, Smearing On Scarlet Lipstick, Languidly Draping Myself Over Thrift-store Furniture -- Than I Had Learning How To Assemble Words In Some Discernible Order.

He Never Gave Up On Me, I Only Stopped Being Matriculated.

I Do Have A Really Good Memory. I Mean, Like, I Can Remember All The Phone Numbers Of Everybody On The Street I Grew Up On.