• what girls are made of
• HOW TO DISAPPEAR COMPLETELY
  • You are quarter ghost on your mother’s side./ Your heart is a flayed peach in a bone box./ Your hair comes away in clumps like cheap fabric wet./ A reflecting pool gathers around your altar/of plywood sub flooring and split wooden slats./You are rag doll prone. You are contort,/angle and arc. Here you rot. Here/you are a greening abdomen, slipping skin,/flesh fly, carrion beetles./This is where bullets take shelter,/where scythes find their function, breath loses/its place on the page. This is where the page is torn/out of every book before chapter’s close,/this is slippage, this is a shroud of neglect/pulled over the body, this/is your chance to escape./Little wraith,/bend light around your skin until it colors you clear,/disappear like silica in a kiln, become/glass and glass beads, become/the staggered whir of an exhaust fan:/something only noticed/when gone. Become/an origami swan. Fold yourself smaller/than ever before. Become less. More/in some ways but less/in the way a famine is less. They will/forgive you for not being satisfied/with fitting in their hands./They will forgive you/for dying to be/a bird diminutive enough/to fit in a mouth and not be crushed.
• "Girls who run with the wolves aren’t here for boys to love."
• "I am not a woman. I am an inferno, I am a tempest. I am venom and fangs and claws. I am lightning and starlight, and I am hell in high heels."
• obituary for the princess who forgot to be fairytale
• Introduction to Witchcraft
• Tragedies
  • I want things to hurt —/cigarette smoke to burn my lungs,/glass shards to cut my skin,/pavement to rasp against my knees./I do not want beautiful;/I want a goddamn tragedy.
• "Dress suitably in short skirts and strong boots, leave your jewels in the bank, and buy a revolver."
• " If I must be wrung through the paradox — broken into wholeness, wring me around the moon; pelt me with particles from the dark side. Fling me into space; hide me in a black hole. Let me dance with devils on dead stars. Let my scars leave brilliant traces, for my highborn soul seeks its hell — in high places. "
• You can be a mystery, you can be a secret, you can be a shadow. It’s not a bad thing and not even a scary thing, this soft velvety darkness, this hidden strength, this wild and unknowable energy. Be baffling, be unthinkable, bask and glow in this sweet freedom.
• "…but no, you’re not diminished by shadows.

They’re your sincerity."