Think Of Your Pain Like A Bunch

It Was Always A Relief When She Came Home To Him. Like Water Or Food. Like Music Or That Moment When You Cut Yourself With A Knife And Squeeze The Skin And No Blood Oozes Out.

You Asked Me Who I Thought I Was Before. I Said Maybe I Was A Fish Because I Love Water And You Said, You Thought A Mermaid, Maybe. If You Were A Mermaid, You Said, If You Were A Mermaid, I Was The Sea.

What Happens To The Rest Of Something When You Smash Its Heart?

Sometimes She Wore Levi's With White-suede Fringe Sewn Down The Legs And A Feathered Indian Headdress, Sometimes Old Fifties' Taffeta Dresses Covered With Poetry Written In Glitter, Or Dresses Made Of Kids' Sheets Printed With Pink Piglets Or Disney Characters.

Sometimes I Wanted To Peel Away All Of My Skin And Find A Different Me Underneath.