Our stories can set us free. When we set them free.

I saw my own blood and I thought, how could I live in a world where this exists- where love can become death?

What shall we do, all of us? All of us oassionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths like caverns of teeth, our mushrooming brains, our watermelon hearts?

He said, You're so tiny, like a doll, you look like you might break. I wanted him to break me. Part of me did.

Magic can be found in stolen moments.

What happens to the rest of something when you smash its heart?

Find the goddess inside yourself instead of looking for the god in someone else.