evil is a little boy in a black
hood trying to be
good. do you ever think about how many
tears the mother of the
devil has cried? not all the planets in our known solar
system could fathom that kind of
treason.

being home alone at night is my achilles
heel. perhaps we were meant to splinter like
this, he thought when he took his last
breath. perhaps
we were made for
this, and nothing
else.

when he says he
loves me, i want to dip him in
chocolate. when he says he's leaving
anyway, my eyes burn like they've been soaked in
bleach. come, baby, let me straighten your
spine, let me read to you the novels of your
fingertips.

some things, i guess, are doomed from the
start. some countries don't have words for
'all right.' some people never stop
bleeding.