Nonfiction

That starter contained our whole lives.

I had an abortion because I didn’t have a sexual education.

Ours is a cartography of ruin, a vacancy strewn with all things broken—hearts and homes.

Part of me wonders if I'll ever write again... And I'm okay with that.

If you ain’t never done it, here’s what happens when you panic-stomp the brakes on a fully loaded big truck.

You keep your mouth shut. You swallow the words you want to say. They taste like soap going down.

Boys were how I defined myself, how I found my contours, how I gave myself shape.

I find the idea of living forever exhausting, so I decide I will die at the age of eighty-seven.

I came to professional wrestling because of men.

My mother was dead. I had a dentist appointment in ten minutes.