I don’t know what it is with one-word titles that just get to me.
They reach in through my paper skin, and the light cardboard ribs, without ripping anything in half or bending something beyond comprehension.’ I’ve always found it a little bit intriguing the way I come out alive after each song and each poem, each work of art that should have shredded me through and through but didn’t.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’ve killed me so many times but I keep coming back to you.