some)one) to
take out the bushes
_by the front door
and get some flowers.

I tell her
be more involved in the community
and she says, Yeah...

Sasha I need more of you! All of my comments on your last post are starting to rack up and become individually less! Where is our balance, my friend of letters and sweet sounding moments?

My mom writes me emails about the continuing illusion of life. She probably can remember all the help it did last time to hold me when I started crying at the dining room table during dinner, because how am I supposed to be exactly what I need to be?

My plant is dying. I open the window in my room and put it on the ledge and say, here, I love you even though I haven't given you enough sun. Please don't die.