Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The

Do I Want To Die From The Inside Out Or The Outside In?

I Showed Her How I'd Been Making Tiny Cuts In My Skin To Let The Badness And The Pain Leak Out. They Were Shallow At First, And Short, Like Claw Marks Made By A Desperate Cat That Wanted To Hid Under The Front Porch. Cutting Pain Was A Different Flavor Of Hurt. It Made It Easier Not To Think About Having My Body And My Family And My Life Stolen, Made It Easier Not To Care.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.

Everybody Told Me To Be A Man. Nobody Told Me How.

I Want To Make A Memorial For Our Turkey. Never Has A Bird Been So Tortured To Provide Such A Lousy Dinner.