Tag Archives: novel
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 […]
The Art of Letting Go
Lets all hail the modern age. It can show you a picture that will put you in tears. Brings people back in your life that you’d rather forget. It puts you in contact with people you hate. People you blame for taking someone important from your life. People you could easily send a hateful message […]
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 I 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 […]
I Thought You Were My John Wayne
On perfect nights we would lay outside of the Lex on 19th and Lexington in the mission of San Francisco. We’d watch the lesbians come out of the bar, my favorite ones dressed in boy’s clothes with fedoras. I would secretly be attracted to them and I would lean in your ear and tell you. […]
haunting, familiar, yet I can’t seem to place it…
“We kept his phone on.” This is what she says to me about her dead husband. People do this daily to me, they tell me about their problems and their lives. I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle them. I wanted to be a psychiatrist once. I took so many classes. I could diagnose […]
grief and high delight…
I was eating wedding cake while terrible things were happening. Worlds were crumbling and I was swirling icing around in my mouth, taking pleasure in the things I had been keeping from myself. I always think my body should react to the universe in times like these. I should have dropped my fork and looked […]
misery loves company…
I asked him if there was anything else. Then he laid it all out on the table in front of me, all of his grief and his misery. Like he was unstacking weights from his heart and then stacking them onto mine. So I took his hand, because I always take their hand. I had […]
i want to be the girl with the most cake 
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