--SURE.  WHATEVER YOU SAY IT WAS.

                           The Night Circus

This clown may not be a clown at all. 

He has a broken window mouth.  Chunks of glass for teeth.  Steaming brand for a tongue.  Manacle hands.

His too big shoes slap the bedroom floor.  The air swells wide then small, ripe and bruised.

If I scream it will boomerang back.  If I scream the ether will eat it.  If I scream nothing will stay nothing.

The clown’s eyes are crushed ice, cherry-colored snow cones leaking at the corners, gashing rivulets down his face, through his caked-on makeup.  His panting is coarse and prickly.

At the end of the mattress, he performs what he always claims is foreplay, juggling a set of butcher knives, with a stare fixed tight on me.

The moon through the window blinks across each flung blade, like flashing sparks or cyphers, while sweat runs away from me, my pulse a coward and deserter.

Before the clown can begin his next trick, I pluck a knife from the air, watch the circus tent collapse, the elephants escaping together, one by one, trunk to tail, trunk to tail.

—YOU ARE A WHOLE LOT OF AMAZING

…Have we got to the saddest part yet?  And, if so, when do we get to the fun part again?

…What do you think?  I want to know.

…People say I apologize too much.  Actually, I think they’re right, and I’m sorry about that.

…“No one deserves to be forgotten.  No one deserves to fade away.”

…Do you really think we should do this?  Sit in the abyss?

…Whose bones are these?  Oh, yeah, probably ours.

…My daughter and I group-FaceTimed her friends the night before last.  It was pretty hysterical, but at one point I pulled away crying.  Anymore, I cry way too easily.  I realize it’s a little pathetic.  I realize it’s maybe more than a little pathetic, if not also a problem.

…For instance, I nearly cried a dozen times tonight at Dear Evan Hansen. 

…But you might have, too.  Anyway, I think you might have.

…What, if anything belongs to me anymore?  I mean, what really belongs to me?

...One of the things I hate (or maybe two of the things I hate) is when someone tells you, "It's going to be okay.  It's going to be easier after a while."  Because how do they really know?  What if it's not going to be okay?  What if it never gets any easier?  What then?  

…Here’s something you never want to hear:  You didn’t seem very excited to see me.  You didn’t seem to care at all.

…Just so you know, I’m trying, but I’m also failing miserably.  Again.  Yep.  And…

…Here’s how it starts: (…)

…For a long time, something beautiful was going to happen.

…Say it out loud.  You have to say it out loud.

…I think thieves must have broken in.  That’s the only way to explain it.

…Excuse me, Mister.  Those bones?  You won’t be needing those bones.

…Before we had the worst luck we had the best luck.

…How many times can a person ask the same question?

--“My world’s collapsing.”

--“God, why are you saying that?”

--“I don’t know.  I guess it felt like it just needed to be said.”

…When you say my brand, what do you mean?

…In literature, a character’s fatal flaw requires that he take a metaphorical, or literal, plummet.  So, that is why I just stood there, waiting.

…The real me lies in a book I wrote a long time ago, though I never did finish that novel.

…There are stains that can happen suddenly and never be washed out.

…It’s the pot that’s destroying us.  That is the soup we’re boiling in.  But hell, doesn't it smell delicious?

…As they say, timing is everything.

…There’s nothing worse than being left on the dance floor.

…Answer me this:  Why now?  Why am I still here?

…Tell me honestly:  What could happen?

…Silly Goose, put down your broken crayons, and come find me.

…“Some people want diamond rings.  Some just want everything.”

…That guy really wants to sell me a car.

…I suppose you were just joking around, but it still wasn’t funny.

…What I’m wondering is, what happens now?

…Do you wanna pack, get the hell out of here?

…You have to be careful about what you tell yourself because after a while you might start believing it.

…You have no idea.  None.

…Nothing else matters.  That’s what you have to figure out.

…What I thought was:  In a few days, everything that mattered will ooze out of my orifices, and I’ll be a dead man.

…“You’re a good daughter.”  “You’re a good son.”  Who doesn’t want to hear that?

…Maybe I should go first.

…It’s okay to let yourself down.  Just don’t do it too often.

…Are we okay?

…It turns out this may not be an amazing day after all.  But maybe it will tomorrow.

…How many times in life do you get to start all over again?

…I don’t have an answer, but I do know how to pray.

…Dear God.  I hear you’re in a good mood.  Please do your best work.  I know you can do anything.  I believe in you.