Martyr!

by Kaveh Akbar

A drunk horse thief who stops drinking is just a sober horse thief,

When you are ten, shame stitches itself into you like a monogram, broadcasting to the world what holds you, what rules your soul.

sonder. “The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.”

“I guess, I write these sentences where I try to lineate grief or doubt or joy or sex or whatever till it sounds as urgent as it feels. But I know the words will never feel like the thing. The language will never be the thing.

He felt like Hamlet, just moping around waiting for the world to assuage his grief, petulantly soliloquizing and fainting while everyone else fed him bananas and candy bars.

You can put a saddle on anger, Cyrus.”

“Nah, fuck hell,” Zee said, shaking his head. “Hell is a prison. All we do is build those on earth. No need to imagine more.”