It Was A Salad Bar Of Phobias

Freshly Brainwashed From Rehab, I Carry The Bottle Into The Bathroom. I Hold It Up To The Light. See The Pretty Bottle? Isn't It Beautiful? Yes, It's Beautiful. I Unscrew The Cap And Pour It Into The Toilet. I Flush Twice. And Then I Think, Why Did I Flush Twice? The Answer, Is Of Course, Because I Truly Do Know Myself. I Cannot Be Sure I Won't Attempt To Drink From The Toilet, Like A Dog.

Do Not Wait For The Healing To Arrive. It Will Never Come. The Holes Will Never Leave Or Be Filled With Anything At All. But Holes Are Interesting Things.

I Hate News And Information And Anything That Threatens To Puncture The Bubble Of Oblivion In Which I Live.

After I Got My Coffee, I Leaned Against A Stop Sign And Sipped, Pretending It Was A Normal Day And I Was Only Up This Early So That I Could Go Running And Not Because I'd Just Been On A Killing Spree.

It Terrified Me To Consider: What If, As A Grown-up, I Craved Another Body Beside Me As Still As This One? What Then?