Julianna Savage

Potatoes

Potatoes 

Thinking about dying isn't diversionary. I do it all the time.

Words were cannibals eating up their own past

Her smile was a supernova: blazing, beautiful, short-lived

It was humiliating to need someone more than one's own self was needed

She was powerfully, permanently bound to those who hurt her

The sound made me nostalgic for something that never was, a manufactured, artificial yearning for something I never experienced.

Instead, I found myself romancing the things I thought I hated

Heroin was just one weapon, and addiction just one strategy