That winter split me like firewood. I was smaller,splintered, Elliott Smith would play on cassette in my blue Volkswagenwhile our breath coursed through flared nostrils and damaged lungs.  *I hid my pain like a sick dog. I slinkedout, under the back deck, I swallowed some pills.In those hideous places I can still smell the acrid, peaty heat of your breath, reeking like remorse.  *But even though you swore that you left I … Continue reading Muted Mixtape by Layla Lenhardt