You almost had a sibling. Sometimes I hope it was a girl; I would have loved a niece.
I know you can’t possibly understand when I say that there was a time when I was…
I met a boy in school who looked like hell and smelled like cynicism and cheap whiskey.
If you want to peer into my mind, look at my hands.
Chipped nail polish decorating unkempt nail beds and jagged finger pads. Weathered skin surrounding them, blushing my fingers from embarrassment as I hold the rail on the subway for all to see.