The last time I wanted to die, I was 18 and isolated and kinda stupid, and thought I could tell myself I wasn’t actually suicidal because I never got as far as buying the supplies I would need. It took me a while to admit it to…
When I was 21, I moved to the other side of the world and dated a man who was 27.
I’m 27 now, sitting in my lovely apartment in my home city stuffing my face full of lukewarm Mexican left overs and reentering the world after a day spent holed up with my thoughts and my paints, letting things that needed out, out.
God grant me slam poetry.
God grant me Anis Mojgani and Tanya Davis and Andrea Gibson.
God grant me slammed doors that sing, slammed feet into tables that cry out lyrics, slamming my head to the door and crying “why?!” with answers beat to rhythmic pentameter and dramatic pauses and