I started talking like a retired showgirl in a ruined by cigarettes raspy voice and asking my mom things like ‘what good is Tom without some of Dick and Harry on the side?’

His friends document their lives incessantly. Shots of grand scenery from lookout points. Screenshots of their heart rates and macros.

There she was, deep in a Lexapro/cocaine induced blackout.

In Materialist MEDICINE in Literature with G you’re talking about the construction of the actual institution of SICKNESS. Like, if you have to take PILLS every day are you really CURED?

I most certainly am not acting out, I inform Mom via ESP, as she silently bids me to exercise her extolled virtue of impulse control. Across from us at the dinner table looms a leering lech

The drive to Connecticut was easy. There were hardly any other cars on the road. It was foggy and grey and the highway seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of me. The governor had warned against

Tell me the child remembers her mother.

“If you want, we can try to unlock the phone using your dad’s thumb.”

"Do it," I heard myself say.

I ignored it when he admitted he had cheated on all of his girlfriends, and I ignored it when he became quickly angry over something small. I ignored the red flags

Mostly we ordered in pizza and put on slow music that looped and stayed on your rug until our pleasures panged together.

My sister once said that I was uninteresting because I lacked an original wound.

I should have asked John why he was so unhappy. I should have done more than write that stupid note that was all about me and nothing about him.

I pushed open the door and he was the only guy inside, about to unzip at the far urinal.

I had come out just a year or two prior, and anal sex was new. Nobody taught me anything.

I taste cigarette in her mouth.

We had a shared Google Doc titled ‘Ground rules for this relationship’.

8: Perhaps we’ve misheard. Perhaps our facility with language will lead to our downfall. Perhaps the public lauding of our own personas is parasitic and causes continuous displacement.

[The names of certain parties have been changed. Other names were never known and are now lost in time.]

I get maudlin and nostalgic over the Christmas holidays, mostly for a past version of

I hook up with a nineteen year old at my big age. Driving over, I tell myself: act doting, let him initiate everything, he’s topping anyways, he has the power, you could pass for being two years

“I used to buy cigarettes here,” I inform him. I give bite-sized details about myself like this.

She kept pulling my hand towards her clit but I was too tired to actually fuck her so I busted onto her milky tits.

He hugged me, kissed the top of my head. “I was wrong,” he said. “Just be grateful I’m not drinking. I can’t do more right now.”

I’m sleeping with another writer who won’t stop talking about his Ex.

Corey are you wasting time?

How would I know?

I don’t know.

“I’m a fan of being a good rebound”, Alexander says. “It’s really a sweet spot I think. That’s why its so heartbreaking. It’s so tempting. But that kind of level of closeness and independence is very