Really Good, Actually

by Monica Heisey

Not sleeping was less concerning; no one sleeps well anymore.

I could not even figure out the new pant shape,

my father’s daily text: alive? y/n.

“You are not broken because someone tried to break you”

I recalled a phrase I had been shocked to learn was common parlance in Australia: “I’m not here to fuck spiders.”

Solitude makes a person too efficient.

Chödrön,

“So even if the hot loneliness is there, and for 1.6 seconds we sit with that restlessness when yesterday we couldn’t even sit for one, that’s the journey of the warrior.”

“An eating disorder was basically a rational response to the world at the time,”

I told her short bangs on someone with my hip-to-waist ratio made people feel in danger of a burlesque performance, or a lecture about how Marilyn Monroe wore a size fourteen.

a bunch of those trees that smell like cum,