Anxious
Tired of it
I didn't know how to get there
People write fiction in part to explore their basest feelings without having to cop to them
The vitality of space
In the breathing room I discover all the places my body is carrying pain
I don't know if I'm moving toward anything
In retrospect I never expected to be an unmoored person
Not least of all I thought love would be different
Third drawer down
Second stack from the right
Gray, soft t-shirt
This life is too stimulating
I miss the mountains so much I can't breathe
Dogs live here
People take care of them
Nothing left to do but scream
