Short, intensely interesting sentences careen out of this portrait of a young poet dealing with the death of her mother, modern life, a callous father, unstable relationships. Darts sent directly into the center target of my heart, I’m gasping reading this as I swoon under my own imprecise befuddlement about my social womb. “what’s the word for ‘ex’ but for when the relationship was all in your head” eviscerates me and then I’m delighted by “air is fake” “imagine imagining ur wedding day” “i fell on my head last night. i cant tell what time it is. seems like every or none or the color green.” Going to have to classify this as narrative poetry, or possibly an epic poem, charting the journey from nowhere to nowhere and emotionally flayed along the way.