“Alone and night-neoned, I write read drink drug grieve and all America keeps teaching me is that there are so many ways to die in America which, frankly, is qwhite confusing because this country killed you a decade ago and I’m still writing reading drinking drugging grieving binging binging blacking out in the cozy, claustrophobic home I’ve made out of how very, very much I miss you and the sky keeps throwing down consequences and corrections and histories and nations, I mean, come on, who can blame me for not wanting to go back outside?” AmericaDeathLossGriefSadnessMourning Book:Alive at the End of the World Source: Alive at the End of the World
“A few months and many deaths ago, I asked someone "how are you doing" and felt, in the way her eye fell, how I had failed her before I had even reached the end of my question. I've hurt many people but it's the unintended wounds I claim now as children.” PoetryGriefPoemTraumaWoundsWellnessHurtingFailingsHow Are You Doing Book:Alive at the End of the World Source: Alive at the End of the World