“Order fails, and ghosts come in. Now there are hands on my body, the sheets tangling like a snare around us. He stinks of cigarettes and booze, and I am floating, falling, somewhere, between here and there, and I think:… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“Borders. Tresholds. Doorways. Windows. Neither inside nor out. Not one thing any longer, but not yet another. The in between. Order fails, and ghosts come in.” — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“And suddenly I think: nothing is fine. It’s never fine. It’s always an illusion. Happy smiles, assurances, jokes, laughter—there’s no way to tell if… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“Order fails, and ghosts come in. Now there are hands on my body, the sheets tangling like a snare around us. He stinks of… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“They say that God never closes a door without opening a window. I hate that saying. Closing a door is an asshole move, and… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“Borders. Tresholds. Doorways. Windows. Neither inside nor out. Not one thing any longer, but not yet another. The in between. Order fails, and ghosts… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“There's a certain language, a dying language, and I can't remember who speaks it or where in the world they are, but in that… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“I want one more moment, one more word, one more touch, and I'm not the only one. Everywhere I look there are hungry ghosts,… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“I feel like a bird, sometimes, I think. My bones are sometimes as hollow as bird bones. I call and call in my own… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“ Poor girl, so tragic, so bad, poor girl, so dreadful, so sad... But people are always judging, even when they express sympathy.” — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
“Our fingers brush together for a brief moment, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the need to be touched. Not fucked. Not kissed. Not titillated.… — Andra Brynn Copy Share Image
