The yellow stays for a while and Henry is content, but eventually it begins to crack and fade. Workers at Home Depot refuse to sell him any more when he shows up to the paint counter weeping. In the shower he watches what’s left escape down the drain

Color Study

Instead, I am thinking about taking seven pink feather boas from the gift shop and caking them to my body with mud, about practicing my balance and how to fall down and if the other birds would really care that I wasn’t organic, authentic, homegrown.

In Which I am not Colin Farrell falling in love with Rachel Weisz in the 2015 mediocre absurdist dark comedy, The Lobster. 

A poorly photocopied notebook page is on the paper. The top of the notebook entry reads SUICIDE NOTE. There are 100 copies and less than 10 people in the room, corpse included.

Wes Anderson Plans My Funeral

Cracking your jaw and pulling out your own teeth, leaving them on the mantle. A reminder that you do what you can. Love is a dog from hell, except when it is Monday morning and your floors are clean and his eyes are green in your green bedroom.

Except When it's Not 

She thinks about Michelangelo, her insides liquified and dripping from the edges of his palette. She thinks about him touching something, touching her, smearing her across the wall—skin and bones and everything. The paint dries and she dries with it.

Damp

"...So I sit- head of the table
At a coronation where the only other guests 
Are the skeletons of the people I wish I’d been..."

Megan Cassiday

Selected work