Texts to my mother 

I’m a 41-year old teenager. Maybe I’m 12. Or 22. Who cares. Not old enough. Mum wasn’t there when teenage shit the fan. But when I ask her now, she tries. She’s so bad at this. It makes her feel awkward to see me weak. If it’s someone else I’m crying over, she will cluck…

Worth

When life gets larger than life, I become as small as I can get. It is as though I want to occupy as little of the earth as possible. Be the tiniest burden. I want to be unheard, mostly invisible (unless I need to buy a loaf of bread), and as dim as a living…