Writer's Block.

I told him that he makes me genuinely happy. The kind of happy where my anxiety subsides. The kind of happy where I can rest easy at night. The kind of happy where I'm no longer trying to shape a piece of steel with my bare hands.

He sincerely apologized for this, stating that now I have nothing to write about.

The Letter Series: Installation #2

My dear Jay,

You were never sure if you wanted to live in the past or the future. Romanticizing what was and what could have been, but never what is. I'm not sure you were ever in love with me. Sometimes I think you were simply in love with time. You were forever wed to your unutterable vision of my perishable breath. But your superficial wealth nor your fame can buy back what we had. Your clothes robed a poor, weak boy, and I've always told you rich girls don't marry poor boys. It's just not the way of things.

You gave up on your own dreams the moment you tried to fulfill mine, and now we're both left cold. Jay, you can't repeat the past. You must kill the dream. I'm not the same girl. Tom may not give me such passion as you, but he's safe. It's secure. You were fleeting the moment I took you in again.

Do not destroy the letters. Do not resent me. For yes, I have changed, and I don't want to break your heart again. With food in hand, I led a starving man. But you're getting thinner with age.

I'm sorry, Jay. I smashed things up and then retreated back into my vast carelessness, letting others clean up the mess I had made. I could do nothing other than destroy you, and you had no choice. You were made for me.

Love always,

Daisy Fay

Exchange

He sat on my couch and opened up his chest. Pulled back his ribcage; a fence guarding his prized possession. After some hesitation he whispered,"Since I've met you, dying no longer scares me."

Without hesitation, I whispered back, "And since I've met you, living no longer scares me."

"That was poetic."

And with that, we watched HBO and ate Skittles.

Followers

I can't keep up with this parade comprised of smoke and mirrors. Filters as a euphemism for concealment to hide their imperfections. But frankly, I don't care the way you wear your hair one day to the next. And the music that you're listening to, that you want to show, tell me, does it sound better when they see it?

The things you use to catch some eyes. The bait you have to reel them in. I don't mind. You're not the same in real life, and you don't want to change. So go ahead, and drink your drinks. Broadcast your discontents. It makes for the identity you wish to show. An apocalyptic fairytale. A tragic romance. They only care to see you fail, regardless of what the numbers show.

But here it is, a curtain call for all the weak souls. Come, now. Take a bow. The lighting on my stage will show you all for who you really are. I'm sorry, but it's the truth.

The Letter Series: Installation #1

I looked down at the deed that I done. Hunched over like ya hadn't slept for weeks.

You were smiling. Ya, that's right. There was that same goddamn grin ya always had. That grin showed ya had no idea 'bout the awful things goin' on in the world. That grin that showed ya had no idea what we was on the run from. Let me tell ya something. What we was running from was somethin' bigger than the both of us. I just got tired, Lennie. I couldn't keep runnin' from it.

You know what your problem was? You didn't know what was what. You could never tell when enough was enough. Goddamn there was many times when I shoulda pointed ya south, then tell ya I'll come back for ya. Let you go chase 'em rabbits. And I tried, Lennie. But you always came back to me. Why's it that the people we want to leave, stay? And the people we want to stay, go runnin'?

But I didn't leave. Ya, I didn't have the damn guts, Lennie. And that's why I pulled the trigger. Because I didn't have the damn guts. Shootin' a man don't take no guts. Trust me. I ain't no pansy, Lennie, but there ain't no shame in a man sayin' he has no guts. But there is shame in having no heart. And I had one. I know this because I felt pains in it when I looked in your eyes.

You said you wanted to live off the fatta the land, Lennie. But you couldn't live off no land. The lands of this world weren't made for you. I knew you wouldn't understand, so I pulled the trigger. I knew nobody would come lookin.

I'm foldin' this up and puttin' it in your pocket. When you get to where you are goin', read it. If ya don't understand a word, ask God for help.

I did this for you, Lennie. I did this so you could finally find those rabbits. And do things only because they feel good. I wish more people could do that.

Truly, George Milton

I'm sifting through haystack after haystack, looking for a thumbtack.

Handsome and Gorgeous.

You were the best and the worst.