Category memories

how to build a tomb

I know how to build a tomb. First you keep all of her stuff. You keep it all in her room the same way for years. Then you start to get rid of it all. But you still hoard pieces of it in the corners of your room. Then you read all of her writings. […]

Please Crush Me.

Martin Luther King Jr always represented peace for me when I was little. Someone who could calm the heaviness in my heart with his words. I’ve always been an extremely emotional person. Pulling in the anger, sadness, or joy around me. Seeing images and hearing stories of civil rights and slavery were so hard on […]

the day you died.

I’m not really sure what happened the day you died. I don’t know where I was or what I was doing. I didn’t find out until months later. I was working, I had made a joke about when you don’t see someone for awhile you think they died. Then you popped into my head. I […]

All My Stories Live In The Sky

“Would you do it all over again?” I ask. But I don’t ask. I’m always doing this, saying things I never say. It’s always some question, some statement, that would make a difference. But I keep it in my mind. I can’t push it to my lips. I hold it back. I say it over […]

What happened?

I miss your novel. What will become of that post apocalyptic world? Maybe you never finished. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe in my head you’re a much better person than you really are. Successful, accomplished. You should be grateful, for the fantasy life I’ve been giving you. It all doesn’t matter that much. I […]

how strange it is to be anything at all…

When I was little I was positive I was going to die young. I don’t know what it was, I just knew. I would think about the future. The year 2000 seemed so epic. I used to think about how old I would be in the year 2000. I remember thinking to myself, “You’ll be […]

House of the Spirits

I’m holding this book in my hands. “House of the Spirits” by Isabel Allende. It’s a used copy that Iย bought at Green Apple Books in San Francisco on Clement. I love finding books there. I love old used books. I love finding notes in the margins. I love finding old receipts stuck inbetween the pages. […]

It Was Never Written

I want to say I don’t fantasize romantic notions. But I’m the queen of romantic notions. I play out situations that couldn’t even possibly exist. Nothing hurts more than the realization of things that could not possibly exist. I think thats what hurts the most when I think about her, or the lack of her. […]

You Don’t Heal Well

“You don’t heal well.” This is what the nurse tells me as she squeezes my surgical incision. As I wince at the pain I know I’m going to take that comment to heart. That its going to mean far more to me than she meant it to be. I don’t heal well. I might just […]