Friday, July 3, 2015. Could you be more in awe of the shape I am taking? Methuselah, at age 969, exasperated and blasé and calm to a fault, waits by the oven for toast. It blackens with a crunch, and Methuselah, at age 969, crunched and blackened himself, takes a mouthful. Monday, March 30, 2015. Ella, born with blonde in her hair and a strong jaw, takes the bus to school. They are typically good listeners, or at least they are polite enough to pretend.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015. A post for Pretty Girls. Drowning from the tears of the one who despises me the most. Drowning because I did it, I finally did it. I cried and cried and cried and expected her to do the same. She told me I was pretty.

I tried to be like Grace Kelly but all her looks were too sad. Tuesday, March 11, 2014. Death has always been a metaphor for broken hearts and dirty dishes. But the truth is I am terrified of dying, maybe because a week ago death was all too real for me. But it all started the night of February 27.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013. In case anyone still cares. Because Dick is in Boston and we can only email once a week. But if you care, I still exist. Thursday, December 27, 2012. But no one is going to love me with these scars. I catch myself bleeding for you.

Sunday, January 11, 2015. Wednesday, January 7, 2015. I remember the time I cut my hair in the bathroom with the kitchen scissors, and how my mom cried, and i was confused because it was just hair. I remember the day i learned how to ride my bike, and how i yelled at my mom for letting go of the bike causing me to fall and scrape my knees and my elbows. I remember a lot of things about my dad. I remember how much i hated sunday dinners. I remember loving my dad.

Friday, July 17, 2015. Goodbyes are going to be quicker than I want them to be and more painful than I want them to be. But I have a few things that need to be said. So I guess this is an apology. So read, laugh, smi.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015. Let me tell you what its like.

Because i need to embrace my crazy. because you wouldnt love me if i wasnt out of my freaking mind. because crazy and socially incorrect is who i am. because if i were any different, i would be so boring. because im just thinking out loud. Wednesday, August 19, 2015. K so imma try to keep my language under control. But i honestly am still so mad at you. I hope it was worth it because now. I cant trust you with crap. Know how i said i would not. Because if i cant even trust you. To be real with me about.

And the day he fell the sky fell too. i remember that first day at work where he came to my rescue and said, her. The important ones all left, and now, with a twisted little smile on her lips, so is . Theres something fairly therapeutic about watching golden light spill onto a mountainside. Here comes the sun, do do do do, here com. Im Only Sure of These Few Things.

Monday, March 16, 2015. How can you say you still love me or even loved me at all. You never really seemed to care. Your words mean nothing and your actions are shit. Despite how long and hard I tried to keep you in it, cant you see that you cant be in my life anymore? I had so much love to give and wasted it on you. I close my eyes as I hold my pillow tight, I finally fall asleep and get a break from the all the thoughts of you. Thursday, January 1, 2015. Why cant you try harder? .