I’m sorry, I’m broken.That’s the disclaimer I carrylike a fragile-stickered box,shipped express through years of fire. I walk in with cracks showing,the kind you try to hide with duct tapeand a joke timed just right.But laughter’s just a band-aidon a bone...

So I’m getting my face cut open— and somehow that’s the good news.* They’re gonna take a sawto this skull I’ve been living in,sand down the man that never fit,and build something closerto the mirror in my mind. Which is wild, right?Like—imagine emailing...

She says, "Kneel." And I do. Not because I must, but because I’ve been waiting for someone who knows how to ask for me like this.

I thought I found my sisternot by blood,but by bond—one of those once-in-a-lifetimeride-or-die“if the world burns, we’ll roast marshmallows together”kind of friendships. She said she loved me.Said I was family.Said she saw me,like really saw me,in the way that makes you stoplooking in the...

I’ve always been the new kidin a school that never lets out.Thirty years late to the lunchroomstill clutching a tray of awkward silenceand a carton of “please like me.” I sit alone,not because I’m a freakbut because the chairs around menever...