Everything that came before today is a rorshach'd survival stain. That is, memories are like lovers; they never really leave us.

Pasts are like bones. They grow and rip shards of internal bruising from within.

For cause of disturbance to bottom half of body, see page 143.

You didn't even notice I scratched away my hips and climbed skin out of my collarbone so you can hang there. Aren't you homeless. Don't you want to burrow your germs into my gender to see what mutated cells we can create?

Call body a stoop sale. There may be a need to discount limbs. Half price on the parts no longer in use and what happens when skin forgets its cause.

Dear god,Every time I take my clothes off, I stop believing in you.