woke up at eloise's. thought i'd start my day early but even getting up at 2pm felt like an accomplishment. recently decided (again) to stop smoking weed. scapegoating it for my inability to get out of bed in the morning. black woman next to me just got off at west fourth and i slid into the end seat, into her butt warmth. can't say i don't like it. yesterday i'm not sure when i got up but the subway clock on my morning commute said 11pm. 

He hears what he hears, and most often it stings, but not long enough or strong enough to stop him from inserting the point of the needle at a 45-degree angle into his vein, bevel up.

She stands idly by forgetting what life was like before this, struggling to remember what thoughts filled her head before she was consumed with trying to save someone…

Sometimes when I am not paying attention, life happens. Through boundless tragedy and occasional triumph, I've learned to define life as more than living. Life is sick & health. Life is birth & death.  Life is bliss & agony. The most wretched, beautiful, disconcerted thing about life is that in order to see the very best of it, you have to experience the fucking worst of it.…

The only way I knew how to relieve myself of guilt was to spend every waking moment in his squalid bedroom, tearing down the walls in a fit of desperation. I didn’t know when, if, how he’d ever come home, but I wanted so badly to destroy any vestige of his former life and the murderous substance that ruled him. I flipped over his mattress with a strength born of rage only to find a yellow notepad with his testament. Be…