Tag Archives: pieces
To Get Caught Up
The married men I’ve fucked, without divergence, have all been older than me, with beards. My therapist says it’s a Daddy issue, but my Father never had a beard in his life, and the idea of sleeping with him makes … Continue reading
She Was The Kind Of Girl
She was the kind of girl who took pictures of parts of herself. Her eyes. Her lips. The curve where her neck met her shoulder. She obsessed about all of these tiny shards of herself, finding perfection in only three … Continue reading
Welcome Home
Slogging through an eternal winter of the mind, fingers and heart numb, eyelids heavy from frost and self hate. The world is perpetually dark, with a pale, weakling sun, who never quite comes above the horizon, circling around the perimeter … Continue reading
The Way Things Were
Every day was the same, now. At first, she’d refused to move, to eat, to anything. She resented having to go to the bathroom. She would all but bare her teeth at anyone who got too close. As time went … Continue reading
What If
“You set?” His too-blue eyes watched her, then looked away before she could catch his gaze. Before she could see. She had nodded, but then her eyes were searching his face. Why won’t you look at me? What the fuck … Continue reading