I don’t know how to begin this “little” tale of mine; it feels as if I’m making a joke out of the situation by calling it “little,” but that’s what everyone in my life refers to it as. That’s only because they weren’t present when it happened; I don’t expect second-handers to understand, anyway.

Everyday I wake up and hate myself. The mirrors that I used to stare in, dolling myself up with a joyo...

I sit awkwardly in the chair of the tattoo parlor. Everyone leaving in either joy or tears as the chair beneath me feels colder and harder to sit on. I fidget slightly, my hands gripping the chair as if I’d fall from such small movements. I don’t know what I’m doing here; I only heard of the rumors and they seemed false, but the more I see people react, the more my mind back peddles.

‘It’s just i...

The heartache of her anguished screams shook me to my core as she begged over and over for me to not leave, yet I couldn’t even look at her. The years we’ve spent together, all the intimacy shared between us, sexual or not, were no longer the illusioned carnations I thought them to be, but dust to choke on when in desperate need of water.

Why she screams at me when she did me dirty? I hadn’t a clu...