Sorrow is humbling. I want my pain to be fabulous. I don’t need my pain to be worse than anyone else’s; I just want it to be strangely, uniquely mine. Art to someone else’s breakdown....
YOU YOU YOUyour eyes, thick as a high school scrapbook crackling and yellow, curling at the edgesa book of myths in which i do not appear.
I felt old. Again. It had been happening a lot lately. I did not live the life of an old lady, but I could hear it beckoning to me, like a mermaid on a rock.”—...
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