I keep your heart locked in my bedside drawer. Not a locker, not a safe, because I swore to keep it close even after you went away. Close...

If my sheets could talk, they’d be calling for a doctor. “Come give this girl a muscle relaxer. She tosses and turns like she’s lookin’...

Misery does not like to be lonely. Insomnia, a cousin of misery, doesn't either.