You Can Have This Kind Of Love.

Write A Page Every Single Day, Even If What You Put On The Page That Day Is No Good - It's The Only Way To Get Better.

He Was Addicted To Me And Now He Has Gone Cold Turkey. He Used To Send Me Fifty Texts A Day. And Now He Is Ignoring Me. It's Like I Was Once His Barack Obama. And Now I Am John Mccain, Conceding Defeat Like A Sad-face Sock Puppet, Knowing I Have Sold The Best Of Myself. He, My Electorate, Not Only Does Not Want Me, He Actively Feels Pity.

If You Don't Know Who You Are, Madness Gives You Something To Believe In.

It's All In Her Walk, A Cartoon Swagger. Part Jayne Mansfield, Part Muhammad Ali. Men Never Know If It's An Invitation Upstairs Or An Invitation Outside.

He Was A Super Shiny Boy And I Liked The Shape Of Him. Under The Blanket. In The Shower. I Liked His Shadow On The Street And His Imprint On The Sofa. I Hated The Smell Of Hair Gel On His Head, But I Loved It On The Pillow. I Love The Smell Of Losing Someone.