“The ending of the poem is, ‘In the confusion, I perish, of course.’ Because this relentless marginalization becomes so boring.”
“I’m interested in transgenerational forms of care and commitment that are open and critical, yet still attached and engaged—and aren’t blood-bonds or even necessarily ‘love.’”
“It felt worse to be complicit in erasing people like this than to take the risk of writing them.”
“I felt that nightly from the antique bed where I slept alone, where I learned love could wait for weeks, months, years in hiding.”
"Progress update. Left is pre-ana, summer 2005. Right is this morning. Excuse the underwear it was laundry day xD"
"A tube of lipstick held the clean, warm scent of a living thing. A tray of eyeshadows stamped into perfectly small molds glistened with color, like a box of unused crayons."