I don’t like to talk about the first time you died, Papá
You keep me hidden / And only take me out when you want an escape
Did I entreat the / Waning moon or wicked wave to / Bury me underneath darkness?
Little fragments of memory scattered all around; / Pieces of me and of you and you and you…
“The cuckoo clock ticks away”
Xaviera Hernandez we were once friends but now your words are nails hammered into wooden planks (do you feel the splinters grafted into your palms?). slowly, you…… Read more “we were once friends”
Sterling M.Z. One, Take all your fantasies, toss them on the floor Scramble them, like eggs, like hearts, like my mind Tear them limb from limb until…… Read more “How to Break a Life”