I still get very sad when I think about Pig. I still feel guilty for leaving. I still miss him so fucking much. He knew how to be happy. I still don't. He had so much more to give. Why did he have to go? The doctors didn't even know what was wrong with him. What makes me think I could have saved him? They say he was depressed, that he was giving in. I can't bear that thought. If Pig couldn't fight it, I can't either. I still hate myself.

Liza

Sitting in her toy bin, surrounded by a new family and warmth and kindness. She stares at the wall, but her head is high and proud and confused. Cold cement and those goddamn bars. She went blind behind those bars. She will never see anything else again. She will never forget the horror of cold steel in her uterus.

Untitled Prose 9

Warm breath crests over my neck while dead fingers dig under your shoulder blade as if to rip the bones from your body. I just want a piece of you when I wake up.

An Atheist On A Date

by Jesse Feinman

I'm just confused. Everything's confusing. Everything beautiful is far away, or maybe everything far away is beautiful. It's like how the grass is greener on the other side. Grass just looks nicer from the other side, you know? Grass where you're standing looks like dirt with green hair.

from Lost at Sea by Bryan Lee O'Malley

And we'll greet the dawn in its morning blues

With purple yarn, you'll be sleeping soon

And I want to walk around with you

from Summertime Clothes by Animal Collective

Chores

If I died and stood face to face with God, the first question I'd ask is, "Do humans have free will?" No matter his answer, my second act would be a parting middle finger.