Eric LaRocca

Each precious thing I show you in this book is a holy relic from the night we both perished-the night when I combed you from my hair and watered the moon with your blood.

You've Lost A Lot of Blood

Scarly

There comes a point when you need to recognize the expiration date of a relationship.

I yearned for him to flower with cancer—a small ball made of beeswax claiming him and taking him from me. Unfortunately, that misfortune never came to him.

Of course, I don’t remember what happened. How could he even ask me that? It’s as if time had become soup for me. A liquid to pass through. Something for my bones to soak while I melt away.