My Love Affair With Cocaine

At any given moment in the year and a half that I used, I always carried at least a gram or two with me, plus a bowl – literally a kitchen bowl full of blow – hidden in my bedroom.

My Mother’s Suicide Letter

Don’t spend your days missing me, spend them living for yourself. I think you should know that if you spend most of your days feeling as though they might be your last, by your own hand, you do things differently.

I Am The Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

You tell me “I can’t do this,” but if you really couldn’t, you would be silent. You entertain me when she isn’t looking because you still want what we had.

Am I Simply Manic?

This was written to be as specific as it is vague, as alone as it is public.