“My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.”

“how far have you walked for men who’ve never held your feet in their laps?how often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?why do you find the unavailable so alluring?where did it begin? what went wrong? and who made you feel so worthless?if they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you?all this time, you were begging for love silently, thinking they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you, you must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin?and what about the others that would do anything for you, why did you make them love you until you could not stand it?how are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay?”

“i don't know when love became elusivewhat i know, is that no one i know has itmy fathers arms around my mothers neckfruit too ripe to eat, a door half way openwhen your name is a just a hand i can never holdeverything i have ever believed in, becomes magic.i think of lovers as trees, growing to andfrom one another searching for the same light,my mothers laughter in a dark room,a photograph greying under my touch,this is all i know how to do, carry loss around untili begin to resemble every bad memory,every terrible fear,every nightmare anyone has ever had.i ask did you ever love me?you say of course, of course so quicklythat you sound like someone elsei ask are you made of steel? are you made of iron?you cry on the phone, my stomach hurtsi let you leave, i need someone who knows how to stay.”

“the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learnt small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.”

“you were like an ulcer on the inside of my cheek that my tongue could not stop touching.loving you was like watching a stranger clean a week old wound; i felt sick, but i wanted more.”

“With you, intimacy colours my voice.even ‘hello’ sounds like ‘come here'.”

“if you gave me half a moon of a chancei wouldkiss the incisors out of your mouth, cleanand hold them in my own, like chippings from an old mugthenpray my tongue intoa bowl of holy waterand ask god to neverleave you thirsty.”