Why I Like You

Even when the bowl on the table is still half-full of edamame or guacamole, and the waiter has yet to come take our drink order, I’ve already begun to miss you.

Why Do I Do This?

My mind is clogged with abusive chemicals and memories. I am at another party, in the bathroom, darkly dazing at my makeup in the mirror. I look like a pink wolf with cartoon eyes.

Why Do I Destroy Things?

I have no one on my side. Sunday night at work, we get drunk, I make out with Thomas. But I’m Mark’s girlfriend? I’m probably Ben’s girlfriend too. I don’t even know who these people are. They’re all just a blob of male to me.

My Honesty Is Evil

This isn’t my body. This isen’t my decision. There is a satellite underground, I’m the proxy.