Love free of independence is a savage, hungry beast Phantoms grasping, sweating, gasping 'till her mind could not be freed

There was something in the pressure and the urgency that made her smile, and then laugh. It was like carrying heavy furniture while someone made a joke--the effectiveness of the joke seemed directly proportional to the weight of the furniture. What was it

My legs hung over the bed as I leaned over the food tray. Under my left arm was Adele, my toy cat. I wondered if the staff told the boy of my ritual of always feeding Adele first before I gave the spoon to myself.

Papa said he'd be in the stands watching: section H, 5th row, seat 35. During warmups, she had looked, during stretches, she had looked, but she had stopped looking right before the race."Don't worry about me," he had said. "Focus on the race," so when the man had said on…

There are many times in my life when I look back and wonder how things would have been different if that one single day, one single moment, had never occurred. If I hadn’t gone there, if I hadn’t seen Tony, if I hadn’t sent him instead of going myse

You wake up. Slowly but surely. Okay, you're in the bookshop. Yes, apparently this is where you slept, on the floor, with absolutely no sense of irony, in the romantic fiction section...

In his head he thinks oh whatever when I wake this time I shall have a very fine discussion with Someone special, oh but finding meaning in anything nowadays that's Just too much rich flattery, isn't it, filthy mirror? Inside His head's…

I am the Poet Laureate of my bedroom I am the Poet Laureate of 6065 Chabot Road, Jokeland I am the Poet Laureate of the Loser Café I have wind in my shoes if not my hair I am the Poet Laureate of Karmic Impulses Of tabloids and gossip I am

Three months had passed since the grease fire melted Jasmine's face.I sat beside her on the hospital bed and held her clamy hand as she trembled. "No more stir-fry," I joked. The doctor and nurse faked a chuckle. Jasmine might have, but the bandages muffled…

It’s me walking in on you shooting up in the diner’s cesspool of a shitter, and you trying to conceal the evidence while you’re telling me it’s straight up your first time.

There’s a problem with falling for a mostly straight girl. And by mostly straight, I mean, when you and I met at the Christmas cocktail dress-up party a year ago, you in red spandex with white fur trim and me in my straight-from-work black slacks and grey

My face turns to promise more, but my insides are browning.

As American as hotdogs and apple pie...

The weird thing was that standing here with himself, or what appeared to be himself, he had got so self-conscious that it was almost paralyzing.

Train whistles in wintertime made him feel lonely.